»E  DRAMATIC  WORKS  OF  ROBERT  MARSHALL 


Seconb 
in  Command 


A    COMEDY    IN    FOUR    ACTS 


BY 


ROBERT   MARSHALL 


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Copyright    1910    by  Samuel    French,    Ltd. 


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SECOND   IN   COMMAND 


THE  PLAYS  OF  ROBERT  MARSHALL 


SHADES  OF  NIGHT.     Qd. 

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SECOND 
IN    COMMAND 


A   COMEDY   IN   FOUR 
ACTS 


ROBERT    MARSHALL 

•  • 


COPYRIGHT,   1910,  BY  SAMUEL  FRENCH,  LIMITED 


NEW  YORK 
SAMUEL    FRENCH 

PUBLISHER 
28-30  WEST  38TH  STREET 


LONDON 

SAMUEL    FRENCH    LTD 

26  SOUTHAMPTON  STREET 

STRAND 


STACK 


Mlo 


SECOND  IN  COMMAND 

Produced  on    Tuesday,  November  27,  1900,  at  the  Hay- 
market  Theatre,  London,  with  the  following  cast : — 

COLONEL       ANSTRU- 

THER,  D.S.O. 
MAJOR  BINGHAM 
SIR    WALTER    MAN- 

NERING  (Lieut.) 
PETER  BARKER 
MEDENHAM  (Mess 

Waiter) 
HARTOPP    (Colonel's 

Servant) 
CORPORAL 
ORDERLY 
SERGEANT 
ADJUTANT 
SUBALTERN 

HlLDEBRAND    CARSTA1RS 

MR.  FENWICK    . 
DUKE  OF  HULL 

LADY  HARBURGH Miss  Fanny  Coleman. 

MURIEL  MANNERING    ....     Miss  Sybil  Carlisle. 

NORAH  VINING Miss  Muriel  Beaumont. 

Two  A.D.C.'s.     SOLDIERS. 


Mr.  Alan  Aynesworth. 

Mr.  Cyril  Maude. 

Mr.  Herbert  Sleath. 

Mr.  G.  M.  Graham. 

10th 

Dragoon  j 

Mr.  G.  Hugh  OugMerson. 

Guards 

Mr.  George  Trollope. 

Mr.  Alec  Hunt. 

Mr.  H.  Royle. 

Mr.  Dale. 

Mr.  Sydney  Hamilton. 

Mr.  Rutherford. 

ks    .                 Mr.   Vane-Tempest. 

.     Mr.  Clarence  Blakiston. 

.      .      .     Mr.   Wilfrid  Forster. 

7.19 


ACT  I 

THE  ANTE-BOOM  OF  THE  OFFICERS'  MESS,  lOra  DRAGOON 
GUARDS,  LOWCHESTER. 

It  is  3  p.m.  on  a  sunny  day  in  August. 


ACT  II 

COLONEL  ANSTRUTHER'S  QUARTERS. 
After  dinner. 

ACT  III 

THE  SAME  SCENE  AS  ACT  I,  BUT  DISMANTLED. 

ACT  IV 

TRAFALGAR  COTTAGE,  PORTSMOUTH. 
A  year  has  elapsed. 


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both  by  amateur  and  professional  companies — must 
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26,  SOUTHAMPTON  STREET, 

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"  SECOND  IN  COMMAND  "  may  be  hired  reasonably 
from  Messrs.  C.  H.  Fox,  Ltd,  27,  Wellington  Street, 
Strand,  London.  The  scenery  may  also  be  arranged 
through  this  firm. 


PROPERTIES 

ACT  I 

Pink  'Un,  Punch,  and  newspapers  on  paper  table  on  left. 

Salver  on  paper  table  on  left. 

Glass  on  mantelpiece  on  left,  also  glass  on  sideboard  on  right. 

Letters  in  rack  on  cabinet  on  right. 

Cigars  and  cigarettes  in  cabinet  on  right. 

Brandy  and  soda  and  glasses  off  stage  on  right. 

Whisky  and  soda  and  glasses  off  stage  on  right. 

Trouser  clips  for  Hildebrand. 

Official  papers  (blue)  for  signature,  off  stage  on  right, 
ready  for  Orderly  Officer. 

Electric  bell  right  of  fireplace. 

Writing  table  with  notepaper,  pens,  blotter,  etc. 

Medenham  on  right  (off  stage)  with  tea  tray  containing  tea- 
pot, cups  and  saucers,  sugar,  and  milk  jug. 

Medenham's  second  entry  on  n.  with  jug  hot  water  on  salver . 

Hartopp  on  E.  with  cake  stand. 

Newspapers  off  stage. 

Photo  album  at  table  left. 

Imitation  hoofs  and  bits. 

Imitation  trotting. 


SECOND    IN    COMMAND 


ACT   I 

SCENE. — The  ante-room  of  the  Officers'  Mess,  10th 
Dragoon  Guards,  at  Lowchester. 

It  is  3  p.m.  on  a  sunny  day  in  August. 

(Music  to  take  up  curtain.  As  curtain  rises,  dis- 
covered MAJOR  BINGHAM  sprawling  on  couch  R., 
holding  a  copy  of  the  "  Pink  'Un  "  in  his  hand  and 
smoking  a  cigar — his  eyes  closed.  Two  OFFICERS 
are  in  window  up  c.  smoking,  one  in  window  is 
telling  story  to  one  in  room,  who  is  on  the  R.  of  window, 
who  laughs,  smacks  his  leg  with  cane,  and  moves  to 
L.  of  window.  BARKER  is  asleep  in  armchair  before 
fire.  His  legs  on  the  fire  squat,  newspaper  in  his 
hand.  MEDENHAM  is  at  table  down  L.,  he  picks  up 
salver — goes  to  fire,  gets  glass  off  shelf — goes  up  R.  c. 
as  BARKER  speaks,  he  stops  surprised,  then  gets  glass 
from  up  R.  and  exit  down  R.) 

N.B. — All    Officers  are  in    cavalry  undress  uniform 
and  wear  white  gloves  and  carry  canes ;  BARKER  in 
11 


12  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [Acr  I. 

addition  wears  a  sword  and  belt,  which  signifies  that 
he  is  an  Orderly  Officer.) 

BARKER,  (stretching  himself)  What  ho  !  Binks  ! 
(looking  over  to  R.) 

(MEDENHAM  looks  surprised  at  BARKER  and  exits  R.) 
Binks  !     I  say,  what  ho  ! 

(The  two  OFFICERS  exeunt  c.  to  R.  and  are  seen  passing 
window  R.) 

BINGHAM.     (sits  up)    Who's  that  calling  Binks  ? 

BARKER.    It's  I,  Barker. 

BINGHAM.  Oh,  is  it  ?  Then  I'll  trouble  you  not 
to  do  it  again.  I  don't  know  what  the  devil  the 
army's  coming  to.  You — a  newly -joined  subaltern 
fresh  from  the  nursery — dare  to  address  me — a 
Major  in  your  own  regiment — as  "  Binks  "  ?  What 
the  deuce  d'you  mean,  sir  ? 

BARKER.  I'm  awfully  sorry,  Major,  I  didn't 
think  you'd  mind.  As  for  "  newly  joined,"  you 
forget  that  I've  got  fifteen  months'  service. 

BINGHAM.  Fifteen  months,  ye  gods  !  And  I've 
served  fifteen  years. 

BARKER.     You  don't  look  it,  sir. 

BINGHAM.  What's  that  ?  You  mean  to  tell  me — 
eh  ?  Well,  no — I  suppose  I  do  look  rather  young. 

BARKER.  Anyhow,  sir,  I  never  meant  to  be 
familiar.  But  the  other  night  you  asked  me  to 
call  you  Binks. 

BINGHAM.    Did  I ;  when  ? 


ACT  I.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  13 

BARKER.  The  night  I  saw  you  to  your  quarters. 
The  night  I  took  your  boots  off. 

BINGHAM.     I  don't  remember  that. 

BARKER.    No,  sir. 

BINGHAM.  No.  The  art  of  forgetting  is  the  basis 
of  diplomacy,  and  any  reference  to  midnight  adven- 
tures with  a  field  officer's  boots  is  indiscreet. 

BARKER,     (advances)    Well,  sir,  I  never  meant — 

BINGHAM.  It's  all  right,  old  boy  !  You're  a  good 
little  chap  and  I'm  very  fond  of  you. 

BARKER.  And  we're  all  devoted  to  you,  sir.  In 
fact,  we  all  wish  that  you  had  got  command  of  the 
regiment  instead  of  Anstruther. 

BINGHAM.  That  may  be,  my  boy,  but  you  oughtn't 
to  say  so.  It's  your  business  and  mine  to  be  loyal 
to  our  chief. 

BARKER,  (takes  up  his  cap  from  chair  L.  c.)  Well, 
he's  a  bit  of  a  martinet,  anyhow.  D'ye  know  he 
makes  the  orderly  officer  inspect  the  picquet  at  night 
and  collect  the  reports  at  watch  sitting  ?  (puts 
cap  on) 

BINGHAM.  And  do  you  young  devils  a  lot  of 
good.  Besides,  Anstruther's  a  splendid  fellow — 
D.S.O.  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  He's  an  old  Eton 
and  Sandhurst  pal  of  mine,  and  I  know  him.  Of 
course  I  should  have  liked  the  command,  but — 
well — there  you  are  ! 

BARKER,     (goes    to    table    L.)    Poor    old    Binks! 

BINGHAM.  (turns  to  him)  Did  I  hear  you  say 
"  Binks  "  again  ? 


14  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [Acr  I. 

BARKER.    Not  I,  Major  !     Good  heavens,  no,  sir ! 

BINGHAM.  (reclines)  Eight !  I  thought  you  did. 
No,  I'll  never  get  command  of  the  regiment.  They'll 
pass  me  over  every  time. 

BARKER,  (comes  up  L.)  But  why,  Major  ?  (sits 
on  arm  of  chair  L.  c.) 

BINGHAM.  The  War  Office  knows  me.  They've 
watched  me  on  parade.  They've  seen  me  tie  up  the 
regiment  into  the  most  awful  knots.  Shocking,  I 
assure  you  !  Once  I  had  command  of  a  brigade  at 
the  manoeuvres. 

BARKER.     And  what  happened  ? 

BINGHAM.  I  marched  two  regiments  along  a 
wrong  road  and  we  were  lost  for  eight  hours.  It 
concluded  operations  for  the  day.  It's  not  a  thing 
to  laugh  at,  you  know. 

(BARKER  laughs  and  goes  up  into  window  R.) 

Besides,  I  was  a  very  junior  Major  then,  and 
couldn't  be  expected  to  know  very  much.  But 
anyhow,  my  dear  boy,  a  failure  as  I  may  be  in  a 
military  sense,  I'm  not  a  bounder. 

BARKER.  No,  and  that's  such  a  comfort  for  the 
ratepayers. 

BINGHAM.  (sits  up)  Yes,  they  like  the  genus 
"  gentleman."  His  existence  is  one  of  the  super- 
stitions of  the  working  classes. 

BARKER,  (looks  up  R.)  Hallo,  there's  Mannering, 
back  from  the  Riviera. 

BINGHAM.    Where's  he  been  ? 


ACT  I.]  SECOND  IN   COMMAND.  15 

BARKER.  Nice,  he  said ;  but  I'll  bet  he  went  to 
Monte  Carlo.  He's  a  born  gambler. 

BINGHAM.  (rises)  Ordered  back,  I  suppose  ? 
(goes  to  fireplace,  takes  "Pink  'C/n") 

BARKER,  (comes  down  R.  a  little)  Yes,  active 
service  being  in  the  air,  the  Colonel  wired  him  to 
return  at  once,  (gets  cigarette  case  from  sideboard  R.) 

BINGHAM.  And  you  think  the  young  scamp  has 
been  at  the  tables,  eh  ?  Ton  my  soul,  it's  too  bad 
of  him.  Look  at  that  dear  sister  of  his.  (flicks  cigar 
ash  into  fire) 

BARKER,     (sits  on  back  of  couch)    What  ?  Muriel  ? 

BINGHAM.     (turns)    Eh  ? 

BARKER,  (slightly  abashed)  Muriel — Muriel  Man- 
nering. 

BINGHAM.  So  you  use  the  Christian  name  of 
ladies,  do  you,  and  in  the  mess  too  ?  Now  look 
here,  young  Barker,  I'm  very  fond  of  you,  and  you're 
a  good  little  chap,  but  I  will  not  stand  your  speaking 
of  Miss  Mannering  as  "  Muriel."  And  I've  a  reason — 

(BARKER  comes  to  back  of  armchair  L.  c.) 

a  very  special  reason.     I  give  it  you  in  absolute 
confidence. 

(BARKER  leans  on  chair  back.) 

For  the  past  two  years,   annually,   I  have   asked 
Miss  Mannering  to  marry  me. 

(BARKER  steps  back,  surprised.) 
I  admit  that  so  far  the  result  has  been  an  annual 
repulse.     But    under    the    circumstances,  if    your 


16  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [Acr   1. 

society  small  talk  must  include  reference  to  that 
lady,  you  will  be  good  enough  to  use  the  prefix  "  Miss." 
(goes  down  to  table  L.,  places  cane  and  gloves  down) 

BARKER.  I'm  awfully  sorry,  Major !  And  I 
wish  you  every  success. 

BINGHAM.  (takes  up  "  Punch"  puts"  Pink' Un" 
down)  It's  no  good.  I've  no  luck.  All  my  life  I've 
blazed  away  cartridges,  but  I  can't  ring  the  bells  or 
win  the  nuts.  She'd  ne  er  accept  me.  It  would 
be  absurd  if  she  did.  I  know  tj\at. 

BARKER.  Yes,  sir,  but  she  needn't,  (seeing  his 
mistake,  goes  up  c.) 

BINGHAM.  What  the  dev — shut  up  !  Here's  her 
brother,  (up  to  fire) 

(Enter     through     window     LIEUT.      SIR     WALTER 
MANNERING.) 

BARKER.     What  ho,  Manners  ! 

MANNERING.  Hallo,  Tins  !  Good-morning,  Major 
(salutes) 

BINGHAM.  Good-morning.  Back  to  the  army 
again,  eh  ? 

MANNERING.  Yes,  for  as  long  as  they'll  have  me 
And  that — if  I'm  any  judge  of  these — (holding  out 
letters)  won't  be  long. 

BARKER.     Bills,  eh  ?     (crosses  to  R.,  lights  cigarette) 

MANNERING.  Worse  !  Writs — County  Court  sum- 
mons. You  know  ! 

BINGHAM.  I  know  'em !  Faultless  documents 
from  the  point  of  view  of  grammar,  but  as  contri- 


ACT!.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  17 

butions  to  literature  neither  mellifluous  in  phrase 
nor  altruistic  in  to  e.  And  their  moral  is  so  hack- 
neyed, (lays  "  Punch "  on  squat  R.)  I  always 
think  the  proper  cemetery  for  such  documents  as 
those  is  the  waste-paper  basket,  (laughs)  Here 
you  are.  (handing  waste-paper  basket  to  MANNERING.  ) 
What  are  you  doing  in  uniform  ? 

MANNERING.  (sits  R.,  places  cane  and  gloves  on 
couch  R.)  I  had  to  report  myself  at  the  orderly 
room  on  arrival. 

BINGHAM.     And  how's  your  sister  ? 

MANNERING.  I  can't  tell  you  that,  sir.  I  only 
got  back  half  an  hour  ago.  Haven't  you  seen  her  ? 

BINGHAM.     Oh  yes,  every  day  lately. 

MANNERING.     Then,  my  dear  Major,  why  ask  me  ? 

BINGHAM.  Well — the  topic  sprang  up — that's 
all. 

(Enter  MEDENHAM.) 

MANNERING.  Get  me  a  brandy  and  soda. 

MEDENHAM.  A  large  one,  sir  ? 

MANNERING.  Yes,  a  large  brandy  and  a  small 
soda. 

(MEDENHAM  is  going.) 

The  old  brandy. 

BARKER.     And  bring  the  cigarettes, 
MEDENHAM.    Yes,  sir. 

(Exit  R.) 
BINGHAM,     Now  look  here,  Mannering,  you're  a 


18  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [Acr  I. 

good  chap,  and  I'm  very  fond  of  you,  but  I  won't 
have  you  drinking  brandy  at  three  o'clock  in  the  day. 

BARKER.     Yes,  I  call  it  rot. 

BINGHAM.  Oh,  you  do,  do  you  ?  Well,  I've  told 
you  that  you're  a  good  little  chap  and  that  I'm  very 
fond  of  you,  but  don't  interfere. 

BARKER.     Sorry,  sir. 

MANNERING.  It's  all  right,  Major.  I  want  a 
bit  of  bucking  up.  I've  had  the  most  appalling  luck 
that  any  man  could  not  knock  against.  You  see,  I 
drifted  to  Monte  Carlo. 

BINGHAM.  Aha,  I  said  so.  I  knew  you  would. 
Didn't  I,  Barker  ? 

BARKER.    Yes,  Major. 

BINGHAM.  An  odd  sort  of  drifting.  Sixty  miles 
an  hour  in  the  train-de-luxe. 

(Enter  MEDENHAM  with  tray.) 

(as  MEDENHAM  is  about  to  pour  out  soda)  That's 
not  for  Sir  Walter,  waiter. 

MEDENHAM.    No,  sir? 

BINGHAM.    No,  he  ordered  it  for  me. 

MEDENHAM.  Yes,  sir.  (comes  to  up  L.  c.,  hands 
drink  to  MAJOR,  then  cigarettes  to  BARKER.) 

BINGHAM.  Thank  you.  (to  MANNERING)  Chin, 
chin !  (drinks) 

(Exit  MEDENHAM  behind  couch  down  R.) 

MANNERING.     I  say,  Major,  why  did  you  do  that  ? 

BINGHAM.     For  two  reasons.     You're  young  and 

the    brandy's    old.     (drinks)    And    you    know    the 


ACT  I.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  19 

result  of  putting  Id  wine  into  young  bottles,  (drinks) 
Now  tell  me  what  took  you  to  Monte  Carlo  at  this 
time  of  the  year  ?  It  must  have  been  empty,  (places 
glass  on  mantelshelf,  sits  on  squat) 

MANNERING.  Yes,  only  two  tables  going.  And 
the  emptiness  of  the  place  was  horribly  infectious. 
My  pockets  got  the  disease  badly. 

BARKER.    What,  broke  ? 

MANNERING.  Yes,  I'll  have  to  send  in  my  papers. 
They'll  never  let  me  go  out  to  South  Africa  with 
the  regiment.  I  couldn't  get  out  of  the  country. 

BINGHAM.  (comes  down  L.  with  "  Punch ")  My 
dear  boy,  is  it  really  as  bad  as  that  ?  (sits  in  low 
chair) 

MANNERING.  Yes,  I'm  afraid  it  is.  I've  one 
chance  left.  You — you  know  Fenwick,  the  solicitor 
in  the  town  ? 

BINGHAM.  I  know.  He's  dined  here  once  or 
twice,  hasn't  he  ? 

MANNERING.  Yes,  he's  not  a  bad  sort,  and  I 
believe  does  a  little  money-lending  on  the  quiet. 
I  fancy  he's  a  Jew. 

BINGHAM.  Oh,  no !  His  father  was,  but  he's 
chucked  it. 

(All  laugh.) 

MANNERING.     I've  asked  him  to  look  me  up  to- 
day, and  if  he  can't  help  me — well — I'm  done  for. 
BARKER.    My  dear   old   fellow,    I — I   am   sorry. 
MANNERING.     It's  all  right,   Tins.     I  deserve  it. 


20  SECOND  IN   COMMAND.  [Acr  I. 

But  I  swear  I'll  get  out  to  South  Africa  somehow, 
if  I  have  to  send  in  my  papers  and  enlist  in  another 
regiment. 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  that  sounds  very  fine  and  heroic. 
At  your  age  I  used  to  say  the  same.  And  yet  when 
the  dinner  call  goes,  you'll  always  find  me  near  the 
flesh  pots.  Besides,  what  about  your  people  ? 

MANNERING.  People  ?  I  haven't  got  any.  At 
least,  only  my  sister — Muriel. 

BINGHAM.  Good  heavens !  Isn't  she  enough  ? 
And  one  day  she'll  marry  and  then  you'll  have  a 
brother-in-law  to  consider.  And  I'd  expect  a  good 
deal — 

MANNERING.    You  would  ? 

BINGHAM.  No,  he  would.  What  the  devil  are 
you  talking  about  ? 

MANNERING.     Well,  my  dear  Major,  you— 

(Enter  COLONEL  ANSTRUTHER.     All  stand  and  salute.) 

ANSTRUTHER.  No,  please  don't  get  up.  (to  MAN- 
NERING) So  you're  back,  Mannering  ? 

(BARKER  sits  again.) 
MANNERING.    Yes,  sir. 

(BINGHAM  goes  up  L.,  puts  "  Punch  "  down.) 
ANSTRUTHER.     I  was  sorry  to  recall  you  so  sud- 
denly. 

MANNERING.     I  knew  it  couldn't  be  helped,  sir. 

ANSTRUTHER.     By  the  way,  I've  had  a  note  from 

Lady  Harburgh.     She  wants  to   bring  your  sister 

and  Miss  Vining  to  barracks  to-day  to  see  the  tent- 


ACT  I.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  21 

pegging,  and  I've  said  we'll  be  delighted :  I  asked 
them  to  come  here  to  the  mess,  so  that  we  can  give 
them  tea.  I  suppose  nobody  objects  ? 

BINGHAM    No    one,  Colon  eh 

and  -  (together) 

BARKER.     Pleasure,  sir. 

ANSTRUTHER.  Then,  Barker,  like  a  good  fellow, 
just  let  the  mess  sergeant  know,  will  you  ? 

BARKER,  (rises)  Certainly,  sir.  (takes  cane  and 
gloves  from  table  up  L.  c.) 

(Exit  up  R.) 

ANSTRUTHER.  And,  Mannering,  you'll  present 
me  to  your  sister,  won't  you  ?  We've  never  met, 
and  she  ought  to  know  your  new  Colonel,  eh  ? 

MANNERING.  Of  course,  sir.  I'll  change  at  once, 
and  keep  a  look-out  for  them. 

(Exit  MANNERING.) 

ANSTRUTHER.  (places  letter  on  mantelshelf  up  L.) 
Nice  lot  of  lads,  these  subalterns.  I've  only  been 
in  the  regiment  a  fortnight,  but  I  like  the  cut  of  them. 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  they're  good  boys,  (takes  up 
cane  and  gloves) 

ANSTRUTHER.     Gad,  Kit !     To  be  that  age  again  ! 

BINGHAM.  (crosses  in  front  to  R.)  Ah,  there  you 
are !  The  golden  age  when  Cupid  is  the  servile 
valet  of  the  young.  Now  that  our  hair  is  touched 
with  grey,  he's  become  an  impertinent  lackey,  always 
giving  notice,  (sits  on  centre  of  couch  R.) 


22  SECOND  IN   COMMAND.  [Acr  I. 

ANSTRUTHER.  (comes  R.)  Kit — I — I  always 
wanted  to  speak  to  you  about  my  being  brought  in 
and  given  command  of  the  regiment  over  your  head. 
You've  forgiven  me  that,  haven't  you  ?  (slaps 
BINGHAM  on  back  and  sits  on  L.  end  of  sofa) 

BINGHAM.  Why,  of  course  I  have  !  Surely  we're 
old  enough  chums  for  that  to  be  understood.  Be- 
sides, you're  a  smart  soldier  with  a  reputation,  and 
I'm  a  duffer  without  one.  Even  the  War  Office  has 
unaccountable  fits  of  observation. 

ANSTRUTHER.  I  don't  know  why,  but  since  I've 
come  here  you've  seemed  down  on  your  luck. 

BINGHAM.     Well — I  am,  more  or  less.     I'm  in  love. 

ANSTRUTHER.    In  love,  Kit  ? 

BINGHAM.     Yes,    third    year.    Awful,    isn't    it  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.    And  who  is  the  lucky  girl? 

BINGHAM.  She's  a  girl  that  won't  look  her  luck 
in  the  face.  That's  the  trouble,  (leans  back) 

ANSTRUTHER.  A  trouble  I've  never  had  to  tackle. 
Isn't  it  odd,  Kit  ?  Of  course  I've  sown  my  wild  oats, 
but  love — real  love — has  never  touched  me.  It's 
the  great  gap  of  my  life. 

BINGHAM.  My  gap  is  all  the  other  way.  She 
knows  that.  But  fill  it  up  for  me.  Oh,  dear  no  !  I 
know  of  no  more  selfish  creature  than  a  girl  who  isn't 
in  love  with — well — with  a  man  who's  in  love  with 
her. 

ANSTRUTHER.  Still,  you  know,  it's  better  to  have 
loved  and  lost 

BINGHAM.     (sits  up)    Ah,  but  is  it  ?    Remember 


ACT  I.]  SECOND  IN   COMMAND.  23 

that  was  said  by  a  poet.  He  was  catering  for  his 
own  class.  A  poet  wants  everything  vaguely,  but 
he  shies  at  anything  definite,  except  royalties.  Now 
that's  no  good  for  a  full-blooded  soldier,  (leans 
back)  If  I'm  nothing  else  I'm  that. 

ANSTRUTHER.  You'll  always  be  the  same,  Kit, 
always  the  best  of  sorts,  (slaps  BINGHAM  on  back, 
then  goes  up  to  card  rack  up  L.) 

BINGHAM.  Best  of  sorts  ;  yes,  isn't  it  your  exper- 
ience that  "  awful  good  sorts "  never  come  to 
anything  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  Some  day  your  luck  will  turn. 
(takes  up  newspaper) 

BINGHAM.  (leans  forward)  I  wonder !  (rises) 
One  never  knows,  perhaps  it  may.  (comes  to  fire) 
If  by  any  chance  it  does  turn,  Miles,  will  you  do  me  a 
favour  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.    Yes,  of  course. 

BINGHAM.  Then,  in  the  event  of  any  misguided 
young  woman  deluding  herself  into  the  belief  that  I 
am  an  eligible  person,  you  won't  mind  being  my  best 
man,  will  you  ?  (tilts  at  back  of  armchair  with  his 
cane  and  laughs  shyly) 

ANSTRUTHER.    I'll  be  delighted,  Eat.     (up  to  fire) 

BINGHAM.  Thanks !  That's  always  something. 
(going  up  R.  c.)  You  get  a  tie-pin  or  a  cigarette  case, 
I  believe.  The  sort  of  things  one  always  loses.  It's 
just  as  well  to  have  things  cut  and  dried. 

(HILDEBRAND  CARSTAiRs  appears  at  the   window  R.) 


£4  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [Acrl. 

HILDEBRAND.     May  I  come  in,  Major  ? 

BINGHAM.  Why — Carstairs  ?  Of  course,  come  in. 
How  are  you  ? 

HILDEBRAND.  Oh,  I  suppose  I'm  all  right.  Mother 
and  the  two  girls  are  driving  over.  I  hiked. 

BINGHAM.  (going  up  R.)  Then  I'll  be  off  to  change. 
(stdps^aside)  By  the  way,  you  haven't  met  our  new 
•chief,  have  you  ? 

HILDEBRAND.    No  ! 

BINGHAM.  Then  I'll  introduce  you.  Colonel, 
d'you  know  Mr.  Carstairs,  Lady  Harburgh's  son  ? 
(stands  at  window  up  R.,  anxious  to  go) 

ANSTRUTHER.  How  d'you  do,  Mr.  Carstairs  ? 
(shakes  hands) 

HILDEBRAND.  I  think  I'm  all  right,  thanks. 
(sits  on  end  of  sofa  R.  c.) 

ANSTRUTHER.  You'd  better  be  off,  Bingham. 
I'll  look  after  Mr.  Carstairs. 

BINGHAM.     Thanks,  Colonel. 

(Exit  MAJOR  BINGHAM  through  window  R.) 

ANSTRUTHER.  Your  mother,  I  believe,  has  shown 
the  regiment  a  great  deal  of  hospitality. 

HILDEBRAND.  (taking  off  clip  from  trousers)  Yes, 
she  wants  to  get  the  girls  married. 

ANSTRUTHER.  (laughs  quietly)  Oh,  that's  it,  is 
it  ?  (goes  to  fire) 

HILDEBRAND.  D'you  know,  I  seem  to  have  seen 
you  before,  somewhere. 

ANSTRUTHER.     That's  quite  possible. 


AOT-I.]  SECOND  IN   COMMAND,  25 

HILDEBRAND.  (comes  to  L.  c.)  Oh,  now  I  remem- 
ber !  Wasn't  your  portrait  in  last  year's  Academy, 
with  lots  of  medals  and  the  D.S.O.  (sits  on  arm  of 
chair  L.  c.) 

ANSTRUTHER.     You're  quite  right. 

HILDEBRAND.  It  was  called  "  Portrait  of  an 
Officer."  Why  didn't  they  give  your  name  in  the 
catalogue  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  Well — I'd  just  been  decorated, 
and  I  didn't  want  to  advertise.  I  know  it's  the  thing 
to  do  nowadays.  I  mean  the  sending  of  premature 
and,  if  possible,  humorous  telegrams  about  one- 
self from  the  seat  of  war ;  but  I'm  rather  a  Conser- 
vative, and  I  told  the  artist  to  keep  my  identity  out 
of  the  catalogue. 

HILDEBRAND.  What  an  odd  idea!  I'd  have  my 
name  all  over  the  place. 

ANSTRUTHER.  At  your  age,  perhaps.  Tell  me, 
are  you  going  in  for  the  army  ? 

HILDEBRAND.  In  a  sense  I  am.  I've  failed  three 
times.  I  shall  probably  end  in  the  diplomatic 
service. 

ANSTRUTHER.     That's  not  an  easy  business. 

HILDEBRAND.  Isn't  it  ?  Well  then,  I'll  have  a 
shot  at  the  Cape  Mounted  Police.  It's  a  matter  of 
indifference  to  me. 

ANSTRUTHER.     And  to  them,  I  imagine. 

HILDEBRAND.     Possibly !     I    really   don't    know. 

ANSTRUTHER.  You  might  try  Parliament.  It's 
one  of  the  paradoxes  of  our  glorious  constitution 


26  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [Aor  I. 

that  Parliament  being  the  supreme  department  of 
government,  no  intellectual  test  is  necessary  for 
membership. 

HILDEBRAND.  I  thought  of  going  on  the  stage, 
only  it  seems  hardly  fair  to  let  one's  social  status 
snatch  the  bread  and  butter  from  the  mouths  of 
our  great  actors. 

(Sounds  of  MEN  marching  heard  off  R.) 

ANSTRUTHER.  I  don't  imagine  the  "  great  actor  " 
would  resent  your  competing. 

HILDEBRAND.  One  never  knows.  They're  so 
awfully  sensitive — in  public. 

(ORDERLY  appears  at  window  with  papers,  up  R.) 

ANSTRUTHER.    Well,  what  is  it  ? 

ORDERLY.    Papers  for  your  signature,  sir. 

ANSTRUTHER.  Ah,  just  take  them  through  to  the 
office. 

VOICE,     (off  R.)    Left,  left,  left,  right,  etc. 

ANSTRUTHER.  You'll  excuse  me,  Mr.  Carstairs, 
won't  you  ?  Order  anything  you  wish.  There's 
the  bell,  (goes  into  window  c.) 

HILDEBRAND.    Thanks  awfully. 

ANSTRUTHER.  (looks  off  to  R.)  Now  then,  Ser- 
geant, look  at  those  men  all  over  the  place. 

VOICE,     (off)      Squad,  Halt! 

(Marching  ceases.) 
HILDEBRAND.    (up  R.  c.)     Squad,  Halt !     That's 


ACT  I.]  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  27 

the  sort  of  thing  that  makes  one  long  to  be  a  soldier ; 
I  don't  know  what  it  means,  but  it  sounds  impressive. 

(Exit  ANSTRUTHER  L.) 
(An  OFFICER  crosses  from   L.   to  R.) 

HILDEBRAND.  (comes  L.  c.)  Yes,  I  think  a  libation 
to  the  gods,  (rings  bell)  so  long  as  mother  doesn't 
turn  up  inconveniently.  The  only  girl  I  care  (sits 
on  squat)  for  has  been  upsetting  me  again.  Norah 
won't  take  me  seriously. 

(Enter  MEDENHAM,  R.) 

May  I  have  a  whisky  and  soda,  please,  and  a  strong 
cigar  ? 
MEDENHAM.    Yes,  sir. 

(Exit  R.) 

HILDEBRAND.  I  wonder  if  I  could  get  into  the 
Royal  Irish  Constabulary. 

(Sound  of  laughter.) 
Oh,  Lord,  here  they  are. 

(Enter  LADY  HARBURGH,  NORAH  VINING,  followed  by 
MURIEL  MANNERING.) 

LADY  HARBURGH.     Oh,  here  you  are. 

NORAH.    Oh,  actually  here's  Hildebrand. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Understand  me  clearly,  Norah, 
I  will  not  have  you  kissing  your  hand,  as  you  did  to 
a  group  of  young  subalterns.  We  don't  do  that 
sort  of  thing  in  England. 


28  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [Acr  I. 

NORAH.  No,  aunt,  it  would  have  no  effect  if  you 
did. 

HILDEBRAND.  Besides,  you're  supposed  to  be 
engaged  to  me,  in  a  half  and  half  sort  of  way,  isn't 
she,  mother  ? 

LADY  HARBURGH.  To  a  certain  extent,  experi- 
mentally, (sits  couch  R.  c.) 

(HILDEBRAND  goes  up  L.,  talks  with  MURIEL.) 

NORAH.  What  a  happy  girl  I  ought  to  be.  (sits 
on  back  of  couch  R.) 

LADY  HARBURGH.  You  have  no  sense  of  your 
obligations.  Merely  because  my  poor  sister  married 
your  father — 

NORAH.  Remember — my  father  had  a  temper  and 
I  inherit  it. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  It  was  in  the  hope  of  eradi- 
cating that  failing  that  you  were  sent  to  Paris  to  be 
"  finished." 

NORAH.    Finished — morally  ? 

LADY  HARBURGH.    Er — partly. 

NORAH.  Then  they  haven't  succeeded — I  feel  as 
if  I'd  only  just  begun. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  So  I  begin  to  fear.  But  I  am 
a  Maclachlan  of  the  Hebrides  and  given  to  plain 
speaking.  And  I  shall  insist  on  decorous  behaviour 
on  your  part.  English  cavalry  barracks  are  not 
like  Paris  on  a  public  holiday. 

(HILDEBRAND  stands  looking  into  fire,  MURIEL  looks 
off  c.) 


ACT  I.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  29 

NORAH.  Oh,  Mon  Dieu  !  As  if  I  didn't  know 
that ! 

LADY  HARBURGH.  There  again,  I  forbid  you  to 
use  that  expression.  Translated  into  English  it  is 
reserved  exclusively  for  intoxicated  members  of  the 
lower  classes. 

(Enter  MEDENHAM  R.  with  tray,  large  glass,  whisky 
and  soda,  box  of  cigars.} 

MEDENHAM.  (going  to  HILDE BRAND)  Whisky  and 
soda,  sir. 

HILDEBRAND.  (turns)  For  me  ?  Oh  dear  me, 
not  for  me.  (step  down  to  L.) 

MEDENHAM.     You  ordered  it,  sir. 

HILDEBRAND.    Not  I ! 

LADY  HARBURGH.     Take  it,  Hildebrand. 

(He  does  so  sheepishly.) 

MEDENHAM.     Strong  cigar,  sir. 
HILDEBRAND.     No,  thank  you,  not  for  me. 
MEDENHAM.     You  ordered  it,  sir. 
HILDEBRAND.    No,  not  I ! 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Take  it,  Hildebrand.  (he  does 
so) 

(Exit  MEDENHAM  in  front  of  couch  down  R.    HILDE- 
BRAND about  to  drink.) 

Now,  how  dare  you  ? 

HILDEBRAND.  I — I  haven't  been  feeling  very 
strong  lately — I—  (going  to  drink) 

LADY  HARBURGH.    Pour  it  into  the  coal  scuttle. 


30  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [ACT  I. 

HILDEBRAND.     But,  my  dear  mother — really— 
(about  to  drink) 
LADY  HARBURGH.    Do  as  I  bid  you ! 

(He  goes  to  scuttle  up  L.  opens  it — turns  and  looks  at 
LADY  HARBURGH,  who  stands  waiting.  He  empties 
glass  into  scuttle.) 

Now  give  me  the  cigar. 

(He  gives  it.) 

Never  forget  that  I  am  a  Maclachlan  of  the  Hebrides. 
And  now,  what  do  you  mean  by  this  clandestine 
dissipation  ? 

HILDEBRAND.  If  I'm  being  driven  to  excess,  it's 
Norah.  And,  little  as  she  knows  it,  it's  an  exceedingly 
easy  road  to  travel,  especially  in  hot  weather. 

NORAH.    Billy,  how  dare  you  ? 

HILDEBRAND.  I  ask  you,  are  we  engaged  or  are 
we  not  ? 

NORAH.     Only  as  a  sort  of  trial  trip. 

HILDEBRAND.  Then  why  does  she  want  to  come 
here  to  barracks  instead  of  biking  with  me  ? 

NORAH.  Because  I  get  such  a  lot  of  you  at  home. 
It's  like  having  mutton  every  day  for  weeks,  without 
even  pickles. 

HILDEBRAND.  No.  It's  because  you  want  to 
make  sheep's  eyes  at  Barker. 

NORAH.    I  don't  make  sheep's  eyes. 

HILDEBRAND.    Yes,  you  do. 

NORAH.     I  haven't  got  sheep's  eyes. 

HILDEBRAND.     I  didn't  say  you  had. 


ACT!.]  SECOND   TN   COMMAND.  31 

NORAH.  You  only  said  that  because  I  said  you 
were  like  mutton. 

HILDEBRAND.  Yes,  you  have  when — when  Bar- 
ker's about. 

BOTH.    You  have — I  haven't. 

(Exeunt  both  R.,  heard  off  arguing.) 

LADY  HARBURGH.  (crosses  to  R.)  Silence,  both 
of  you  !  A  most  trying  couple.  Hildebrand  tells 
me  that  your  brother,  Walter,  is  back  from  the 
Riviera,  (sits  on  couch  R.) 

MURIEL,  (comes  down  L.  c.)  Yes,  we'll  see  him 
to-day. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  I  can't  imagine  how  he  can 
afford  trips  of  that  sort.  He  has  barely  enough  to 
live  on  in  the  regiment.  And  then,  Muriel,  it's  my 
duty  to  tell  you  that  I  really  cannot  be  expected  to 
provide  you  with  a  home  for  ever.  Your  mother 
was  a  very  dear  friend,  and  for  her  sake  I  took  you 
in.  I  was  glad  to  have  you  as  a  companion  for 
Norah.  But  that  was  two  years  ago,  and  really, 
dear,  I  did  look  to  your  getting  married  long  before 
this. 

MURIEL.  I'm  very,  very  sorry,  Lady  Harburgh. 
If  there  is  any  place  I  could  go  to,  or  any  employ- 
ment   (sits  on  chair  down  L.  c.) 

LADY  HARBURGH.  My  dear  girl,  you  have  a  pro- 
fession already ;  and  that  is  to  marry.  I've  given 
you  every  opportunity.  You  had  the  season  in 
town.  My  house  has  been  Liberty  Hall  to  the  entire 


32  SECOND   TN   COMMAND.  [ACT  1. 

garrison.  It  absolutely  reeks  of  pipeclay  and  echoes 
with  the  clank  of  spurs.  Yet  what  is  the  result  ? 

MUEIEL.     None ! 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Exactly — none.  Well,  Muriel, 
I  really  must  ask  you  to  make  an  effort.  There's 
Major  Bingham.  Everybody  says  he's  devoted  to 
you. 

MURIEL.     Yes,  I  think  he  is. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Then  you  must  give  him  his 
opportunity.  Love,  especially  slightly  middle-aged 
love,  must  be  nurtured  gently  but  inexorably. 

MURIEL.  It  isn't  that.  He  has  already  asked  me 
to  marry  him. 

LADY  HARBURGH.    What  ? 

MURIEL.     Yes,  twice. 

LADY  HARBURGH.    And  you  refused  ? 

MURIEL.    Yes. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Then  I  call  it  positively  im- 
provident of  you,  almost  improper.  He's  just  the 
man  to  secure  in  case  of  a  rainy  day. 

MURIEL.  I  couldn't,  Lady  Harburgh.  I  know 
what  a  dear  delightful  soul  he  is — but — well — I  don't 
love  him. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  My  dear  Muriel,  love  is  a 
luxury  that  only  the  moderately  rich  or  extremely 
poor  can  properly  indulge  in.  And  now — all  of  a 
sudden — I  learn  from  your  own  lips  that  you  might 
have  married  some  months  ago.  I'm  not  a  rich 
woman,  Muriel,  and  I  do  think  you  might  have  spared 
me  these  months  of  unnecessary  expense, 


ACT  I.]  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  33 

MURIEL.  Expense  ?  But  surely  you  receive  an 
annual  sum  of  money  on  my  behalf  ? 

LADY  HARBURGH.  No,  my  dear.  So  it  was 
arranged  by  the  lawyers  when  your  father  died. 
But  it  soon  appeared  there  was  barely  enough  to 
keep  Walter  in  the  regiment. 

MURIEL.    And  I  was  never  told  ! 

LADY  HARBURGH.  I  thought  it  better  not  to. 
I  felt  sure  you  would  marry — 

MURIEL.  You  needn't  say  anything  more,  Lady 
Harburgh.  I  need  scarcely  tell  you  that  I  knew 
nothing  of  this.  I'm  very  grateful,  most  grateful 
for  all  you've  done,  and  I  promise  you  that,  whether 
I  marry  or  not,  in  a  few  weeks'  time  I  shall  relieve  you 
of  any  further  burden. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  There  is  no  immediate  hurry, 
Muriel. 

MURIEL.  Yes,  Lady  Harburgh,  in  my  heart 
there  is — a  feverish — desperate  hurry. 

LADY  HARBURGH.    I  had  no  desire  to  wound  you. 

MURIEL.  No,  but  I  am  wounded,  most  sorely 
wounded.  I — I  can't  help  it. 

(Enter  up  R.  MAJOR  BINGHAM  in  mufti.    Breeches, 
gaiters,  cap.) 

BINGHAM.  (cap  in  hand)  So  sorry,  Lady  Har- 
burgh. We  didn't  expect  you  quite  so  early. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  It  is  the  unexpected  that 
happens,  but  only  to  the  unprepared.  A  point  that 
seems  to  have  escaped  our  military  authorities. 

o 


34  SECOND    IN   COMMAND.  [ACT  I. 

BINGHAM.  Yes.  That's  vary  good,  (goes  to  L.) 
How  do  you  do,  Miss  Mannering  ? 

MURIEL.  How  do  you  do  ?  (going  up  L.)  Is 
Walter  in  barracks  ? 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  he'll  be  here  in  a  moment,  (going 
up  c.)  He's  just  gone 

LADY  HARBURGH.  (R.  c.)  Major  Bingham ! 
Major — I  want  to 

BINGHAM.  (comes  down  L.  c.)  Yes  ?  You  want 
to  speak  to  me  ? 

LADY  HARBURGH.  (both  over  L.)  Charming, 
charming  girl,  Muriel,  (looks  up  R.) 

BINGHAM.  She  is  indeed.  In  fact,  telling  her  so 
is  rather  a  hobby  of  mine. 

LADY  HARBURGH.     She  likes  you. 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  lots  of  people  like  me  ;  the  trouble 
is  they  never  get  any  forrader.  They  all  get  swamped 
in  a  platonic  bog.  (goes  L.) 

(Enter  SIR  WALTER  MANNERING  up  R.,  in  mufti.) 

MANNERING.  Well,  Muriel?  Here  I  am,  back 
again. 

(They  kiss.) 

MURIEL.     Walter,  dear ! 

BINGHAM.  (goes  up  L.  to  MURIEL)  Your  brother 
is  looking  very  well  after  his  trip  ? 

MANNERING.  (down  R.  c.)  How  d'ye  do,  Lady 
Harburgh  ? 

(They  shake  hands.) 


Acrl.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  35 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Well,  I  haven't  quite  recovered 
from  the  effects  of  the  season  in  town.  Society  is 
such  a  muddle  of  birth,  brains,  money  and  over 
eating,  that  it's  really  exhausting.  I  saw  by  the 
papers  you'd  gone  to  Nice. 

MANNERING.  Yes.  Though  what  interest  the 
papers  find  in  that,  I  can't  imagine. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  No  !  You  see,  nowadays  only 
the  very  nicest  people,  quite  the  inner  circle,  contrive 
to  keep  out  of  the  newspapers. 

(LADY    HARBURGH   goes   up   extreme    R.     BINGHAM 
crosses  to  R.  at  back.     They  meet.) 

BINGHAM.    You  drove  over,  eh,  Lady  Harburgh  ? 

(They  move  up  to  c.  chatting.) 
MURIEL.    And  you  enjoyed  Nice,  Walter  ? 
(Both  a  little  L.  c.) 

MANNERING.    H'm !    Not  altogether. 
MURIEL.     There's  nothing  wrong,  is  there  ? 
MANNERING.    No,  at  least — well,  it  doesn't  matter  ! 
(moves  to  R.)     It's  all  in  the  day's  work. 

(Horses  heard  trotting  in  distance.) 

MURIEL.  I  wish  you'd  tell  me,  Walter.  We  seem 
so  alone  in  the  world,  you  and  I. 

MANNERING.  (comes  to  her)  Dear  old  girl !  It's 
all  right.  Cheer  up !  (patting  her  arms)  Ah ! 
There  go  (up  R.  c.)  the  first  lot  to  the  field. 

LADY  HARBURGH.    (goes  into  window  R.)    Then 


36  SECOND   IN  COMMAND.  [ACT  I. 

take  me  there,  Sir  Walter,  will  you  ?  I've  never 
seen  pig-sticking. 

BlNGHAM          \ 

and  \  (together  laughingly)    Pig-sticking  ! 

MANNERING.  J 
LADY  HAKBURGH.    No,  no,  I  mean  tent-pegging. 

(All  laugh.) 

(Exit  R.) 
(Trotting  dies  away.) 

MANNERING.  (going  off  R.)  Pleasure !  Binks, 
you'll  bring  Muriel,  won't  you  ? 

(Exit  R.) 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  of  course.  Delighted !  (comes 
to  R.  c.)  Miss  Mannering (fidgets  with  his  cap) 

(MURIEL  turns  to  him.) 

If  you  can  spare  me  a  moment,  I  should  much  like 
to  refer  to  a  subject  we  have  so  far  discussed  annually. 

MURIEL.  Yes,  I  think  I  understand,  (sits  R.  on 
couch) 

BINGHAM.    We  are  going  on  active  service. 

MURIEL.    I  know. 

BINGHAM.  And  sometimes — well,  some  of  us 
don't  come  back. 

MURIEL.  Ah,  don't,  Major  Bingham !  Let  us 
look  on  the  bright  side  of  things  while  we  may. 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  that's  my  own  idea.  But  I 
doubt  if  I'm  so  highly  polished  as  to  have  a  bright 
side. 


ACT  I.]  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  37 

MURIEL.  Of  course  I  shall  always  follow  your 
career — and  Walter's  with  the  greatest  interest — 
indeed  with  more  than  that.  When  you  are  under- 
going hardships,  I  shall  suffer  with  you ;  when  you 
win  laurels,  none  will  be  prouder  than  I — for — for  I 
know  how  good  and  loyal  you  are. 

BINGHAM.     Loyal  ?     To  the  country  ? 

MURIEL.     To  everything  that  is  good. 

BINGHAM.  Thanks  !  That's  something.  But  here 
we  are  again  in  the  same  old  pla tonic  cul-de-sac. 

MURIEL.    You'll  look  after  Walter,  won't  you  ? 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  rather,  as  if  he  were  my  brother- 
(sits  by  her)  in-law. 

MURIEL.  Somehow  I  seem  to  have  realized,  only 
to-day,  how  alone  we  are,  Walter  and  I. 

BINGHAM.  Ah,  there  you  are.  Well  now — sup- 
pose you  took  me  into  partnership  ?  If  I  were  there, 
you  need  never  be  alone. 

MURIEL.  No,  that's  just  it.  One  might  want  to 
be,  you  know. 

BINGHAM.  In  that  case,  I  could  go  away  for  a 
day  or  two. 

MURIEL.  I'm  afraid  that  arrangement  wouldn't 
mean  happiness,  either  for  you  or  for  me. 

BINGHAM.  Not  happiness  for  me  !  Why,  Muriel— 

(MURIEL  looks  up.) 

There,  forgive  me,  I  whisper  the  name  so  often  to 
myself  that  it  will  come  to  the  lips — I  should  be  a 
king! 

(MURIEL  turns  away  to  K.) 


38  SECOND   IN  COMMAND.  [Acr  I. 

Ah  !  If  you'd  only  let  me  go  away  with  some  sort 
of  hope,  some  little  rift  of  sunshine,  I  should  be  a 
new  man,  and  1  believe  even  a  better  soldier.  It 
would  be  patriotic  of  you — to  love  me  just  a  little. 
Think  for  a  moment  what  a  service  you  would  be 
rendering  the  nation,  if,  by  loving  me  just  a  little, 
you  made  me  a — second — Napoleon. 

MURIEL.     Napoleon's  career  ended  with  St.  Helena. 

BINGHAM.     Then  let  mine  begin  with  St.  Muriel. 

MURIEL.  But — if  I  can't  offer  you  more  than 
friendship— 

BINGHAM.  (leans  back,  twirls  moustache)  I  know 
what  you  mean.  You  can't  offer  me  more  than  the 
sort  of  cheap  affection  one  might  buy  ready  made 
at  the  Stores,  using  somebody  else's  ticket. 

MURIEL.  You  don't  wish  me  to  come  to  you 
and — (embarrassed)  you  must  help  me — I  can't  say 
it. 

BINGHAM.     (leans  fonvard)    And  be  my  wife  ? 

MURIEL.     Yes — not  loving  you. 

BINGHAM.  I'm  not  at  all  sure  I  don't.  But, 
Muriel,  you  don't — you  can't  mean  that  you  would  ? 

MURIEL.  If,  knowing  how  little  I  could  be  to  you, 
you  still  wish  it — yes. 

BINGHAM.  Muriel — you  don't  really — you  can't 
possibly— 

MURIEL.     Indeed,  yes,  I  do. 

BINGHAM.  (takes  her  hand)  Muriel — my  darling 
—is  it  true  ?  No,  no,  it  can't  be.  You  can't  realize 
what  you're  saying.  As  a  soldier  you  know,  I  don't 


ACT  I.]  SECOND    IN   COMMAND.  39 

shine — at   least  not  brilliantly.     You  didn't   know 
that,  did  you  ? 

MURIEL.  I  only  know  that  you're  a  dear  kind 
soul,  and  if  you  believe  that  I  can  make  you  happy — 

BINGHAM.    Happy ! 

MURIEL.    I  am  willing  to  try. 

BINGHAM.  Happy !  There  isn't  a  man  in  the 
world  that  I'd  change  with  now — there  isn't,  (stops 
suddenly)  Did  you  (turns  away  and  twirls  moustache] 
know  I  was  passed  over  for  command  of  the  regi- 
ment ? 

MURIEL.     Yes,  I  heard  of  it. 

BINGHAM.  I  don't  wish  to  convey  the  idea  that 
I'm  an  embryo  Wellington. 

MURIEL.     I  know  you  don't. 

BINGHAM.  In  fact,  it's  just  on  the  cards  that  I'm 
not.  By  the  way,  merely  as  a  formal  inquiry,  there's 
no  one  else  you  have  ever — ever  loved,  is  there  ? 

MURIEL.    No  one,  except — 

BINGHAM.  Except — good  heavens — well?  (re- 
leases her  hand) 

MURIEL.    A  picture. 

BINGHAM.    A  picture  !     Oh,  we'll  pass  that. 

MURIEL.  I'll  be  absolutely  frank  with  you.  It 
was  the  portrait  of  a  man  in  last  year's  Academy. 
The  moment  I  saw  it,  the  face  attracted  me,  and  I 
went  back  to  the  Galleries  many  times  only  to  look 
at  it.  It  was  a  foolish  idea,  of  course,  but  somehow 
we  seemed  gradually  to  know  each  other. 

BINGHAM.  It  wasn't  a  living  picture,  by  any 
chance  ? 


40  SECOND   IN  COMMAND.  [Acrl. 

MURIEL.  No,  only  canvas  and  paint.  But  it 
spoke  to  me  and  I  to  it.  I  imagined  I  had  drifted 
into  love.  At  last,  at  Hurlingham,  I  suddenly  found 
myself  face  to  face  with  him. 

BINGHAM.     Oh  !    Did  you  ? 

MURIEL.  Yes.  It  was  only  for  a  second,  and 
then  he  was  lost  in  the  crowd. 

BINGHAM.    And  who  was  he  ? 

MURIEL,  (leans  back  on  couch)  I  couldn't  find 
out.  "  Portrait  of  an  Officer  "  was  all  the  catalogue 
said. 

BINGHAM.  (leans  back,  takes  her  hand)  Ah,  well, 
you  won't  want  to  turn  up  the  catalogue  now,  darling. 
We've  stepped  into  a  new  art  gallery,  and  I'm  the 
only  masterpiece  in  it.  (laughs  shyly)  But  there — 
you  must  think  me  horribly  selfish  in  asking  you 
to  give  up  all  other  possible  romances  ? 

MURIEL.    Not  more  so  than  I  am  in  coming  to  you. 

BINGHAM.  Muriel — (shyly)  you  don't  happen  to 
know  my  Christian  name,  do  you  ? 

MURIEL.     Yes,  of  course,  Christopher. 

BINGHAM.     (shyly)    Kit,  for  short. 

MURIEL.    Kit. 

BINGHAM.  Ah  !  How  beautiful  it  sounds.  And 
I  used  to  think  it  ugly  and  familiar.  Muriel — one — 
only  one. 

MURIEL,  (rises)  No,  Kit,  please.  Not  yet. 
(crosses  to  up  c.) 

BINGHAM.  No,  of  course  not.  Not  yet.  I  always 
was  a  selfish  brute. 


ACT  I.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  41 

(MURIEL  offers  her  hand  to  BINGHAM  ;    he  kisses  it.) 

MURIEL,  (thoughtfully)  For  the  present  I  think 
we'll  tell  only  Walter. 

BINGHAM.  (R.  c.)  Yes — er — but  suppose  he  asks 
you  if  you  really  love  me,  what  then  ? 

MURIEL.  Then — (pause) — then,  for  both  your 
sakes,  I'll  tell  a  snow-white  lie,  that  even  angels 
would  forgive,  and  say — "  yes."  (offers  her  hand) 

BINGHAM.  (takes  her  hand)  That  is  good  of  you. 
D'you  know  you'll  meet  my  best  man  to-day,  (leads 
her  to  down  L.) 

MURIEL.    What  ? 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  I  arranged  it  all  beforehand. 
There's  no  good  being  rushed  at  the  last  moment. 
There's  somebody  coming. 

(MURIEL  goes  to  R.    BINGHAM  up  to  fire.) 

(Enter  MEDENHAM,  R.) 

Yes,  I  thought  you'd  enjoy   the    tent-pegging,     (to 
MEDENHAM)    Have  they  begun  yet  ? 
MEDENHAM.    Yes,  sir,  it's  half  over,  sir. 
BINGHAM.    Is  it  really  ?     Then  shall  we  go,  Miss 
Mannering  ? 
MURIEL.    Yes.     Come  along. 

(Enter  HARTOPP.) 

BINGHAM.  I'm  awfully  glad  you've  been  able  to 
come. 

(MURIEL  exits.    BINGHAM  follows.) 

MEDENHAM.  I  don't  approve  of  females  'avin' 
the  run  o'  the  mess. 


42  SECOND   IN  COMMAND.  [ACT  I. 

HARTOPP.    Ye  don't  say  so  ! 

MEDENHAM.     Yes,  I  do.     I'm  a  Socialist,  I  am. 

HARTOPP.  You  mean  a  cove  whose  mind  is  too 
active  to  give  his  'ands  a  chance. 

MEDENHAM.  Who's  the  civilian  bloke  crossin' 
the  square  ? 

HARTOPP.    I  dunno. 

(FENWICK  appears  at  window  R.) 

FENWICK.     Is  Sir  Walter  Mannering  in  barracks  ? 

HARTOPP.     Yes,  sir.     'E's  at  the  tent-pegging. 

FENWICK.  Then  will  you  let  him  know  I'm  here, 
please,  (places  hat  and  stick  on  seat  between  windows  R.) 

HARTOPP.     Yes,  sir.     What  name  shall  I  say? 

FEN  WICK.  Fenwick — Mr.  Fenwick.  (goes  down 
R.  c.  and  up  L.  c.  to  fire) 

HARTOPP.    Yes,  sir. 

(Exit  up  R.) 

MEDENHAM.    Paper,  sir. 

FENWICK.     Thank    you.     (sits    on    squat)    So 
you're  off  to  South  Africa  shortly  ? 

MEDENHAM.     Yes,  sir.     (goes  a  step  to  R.) 

FENWICK.  I  suppose  you're  all  as  keen  as  pos- 
sible ? 

MEDENHAM.     I  believe  so,  sir.     (gets  to  R.) 

FENWICK.     It's  a  glorious  opportunity. 

MEDENHAM.  Yes,  sir,  so  the  enemy  seems  to 
think.  (at  door  R.) 

(Enter  MANNERING,  R.) 


AcrL]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  43 

MANNERING.  Hallo,  Fenwick,  I  thought  I  saw 
you  crossing  the  barrack-square. 

FENWICK.  Yes,  your  letter  seemed  to  me  urgent, 
so  I  came  at  once. 

MANNERING.  It's  awfully  good  of  you.  Have  a 
drink? 

FENWICK.    No,  thanks. 

(Exit  MEDENHAM,  R.) 
(MANNERING  goes  down  to  R.    FENWICK  comes  down 

L.  c.,  sits  in  low  chair ;  both  watch  MEDENHAM  off.) 
Well,  what  is  it  ? 

MANNERING.  It's  the  very  devil,  Fenwick. 
There's  no  good  going  into  detail,  but  unless  I  can 
get  £3,000  within  a  week,  I'll  have  to  leave  the 
service. 

FENWICK.     Three  thousand. 

MANNERING.  (sits  on  couch  R.)  Yes,  and  I'll 
be  done  out  of  the  show  in  South  Africa. 

FENWICK.    And  you  want  to  raise  the  money  ? 

MANNERING.    Yes. 

FENWICK.    What  security  can  you  give  ? 

MANNERING.  None,  absolutely  none.  I've  lived 
on  credit  ever  since  I  joined  the  regiment. 

FENWICK.  Then  I  fear  I  see  no  way  of  helping 
you.  I  wish  I  did. 

MANNERING.     Yes,  I'm  sure  you  do. 

FENWICK.    Can  your  relatives  do  nothing  ? 

MANNERING.  No,  nothing.  They  wouldn't  if 
they  could.  The  relatives  of  a  poor  man  are  peculiarly 
distant. 


44  SECOND   IN   COMMAND:  [ACT  I. 

FENWICK.  Ah,  it's  a  bad  business.  And  I  see  no 
way  out  of  it,  unless — but  even  then — 

MANNERING.     Unless  what  ? 

FENWICK.  Well,  it's  a  difficult  thing  to  suggest 
to  you,  but,  (rises)  look  here,  suppose — I  only  say 
"  suppose  " — your  sister  were  going  to  marry  a  rich 
man — for  example,  like  Colonel  Anstruther 

MANNERING.    Why  do  you  mention  him  ? 

FENWICK.  Only,  that  in  passing  the  Orderly 
Room,  I  saw  the  Colonel,  and  I  know  he's  a  very  rich 
man. 

MANNERING.  And  you  mean  to  say  that  money 
could  be  raised  on  that,  supposing  it  were  possible  ? 

FENWICK.  I  don't  say  it  could,  but  it  might,  if 
he  consented  to — well,  to  countenance — any  arrange- 
ment you  and  I  might  come  to. 

MANNERING.  (rises,  goes  down  to  R.)  I  see.  But 
I  haven't  quite  sunk  to  that  sort  of  thing.  And 
anyhow,  there  isn't  the  remotest  chance  of  it. 

FENWICK.     I  can't  tell  you  how  sorry  I  am. 

MANNERING.  That's  all  right,  Fenwick.  It  can't 
be  helped,  (half  aside)  The  bill  for  my  folly  has 
to  come  in.  D'you  care  to  have  a  look  at  the  tent- 
pegging  ? 

FENWICK.     Thanks — may  I  ?     (looks  at  his  watch) 

MANNERING.  You'll  find  them  all  in  the  long 
field,  (comes  to  up  c.) 

FENWICK.  (goes  up,  gets  hat,  etc.)  You  won't  do 
anything  rash,  will  you  ? 

MANNERING.    No,  no ! 


ACT  I.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  45 

(Exit  FENWICK  off  up  R.) 

At  least  I  hope  not.     I  don't  feel  as  if  I  had  the 
pluck 'to. 

(Enter  COLONEL  ANSTRUTHER,  L.  c.) 

ANSTRUTHER.  Who  hasn't  the  pluck,  eh  ?  You'll 
have  lots  of  it  when  we  get  into  line  on  the  veldt, 
my  boy. 

MANNERING.    I  hope  so,  sir. 

ANSTRUTHER.  Do  you  know,  I've  just  seen  the 
most  perfectly  charming  woman  !  (goes  to  window) 

MANNERING.    Really,  sir  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  Yes,  look — she's  standing  near 
Lady  Harburgh. 

MANNERING.  (going  up  R.  c.)  Miss  Vining,  I 
suppose,  (goes  to  window)  Yes,  there  she  is.  She's 
an  Irish  girl,  niece  of  Lady  Harburgh's. 

ANSTRUTHER.  Upon  my  soul,  Mannering,  she's 
delightful.  There,  see,  she's  looking  over  here.  I 
begin  to  think  there  is  such  a  thing  as  love  at  first 
sight.  Now  she's  talking  to  Lady  Harburgh. 

MANNERING.     That  ?     Why,  that's  my  sister. 

ANSTRUTHER.    What  ?    Not  Miss  Vining  ? 

MANNERING.  No,  that's  Muriel.  What  an  odd 
thing,  (comes  down  L.  c.) 

ANSTRUTHER.     Odd  !    Why  ?     (comes  down  c.) 

MANNERING.    Nothing,  sir — I  only  meant 

ANSTRUTHER.  Of  course,  I'd  never  have  spoken 
as  I  did,  had  I  known  she  was  your  sister. 

MANNERING,     Oh,  that's  all  right,  sir.     (goes  up  L.) 


46  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [Acr  I. 

(MAJOR  BINGHAM  appears  up  R.   with  newspaper.) 

BINGHAM.  I  say,  sir — have  you  seen  this,  sir, 
the  evening  paper  ?  (comes  down) 

ANSTRUTHER.    No,  what's  in  it  ? 

BINGHAM.  It  says  we're  detailed  for  the  next 
division  and  that  we  embark  at  Southampton  in  a 
week  or  two.  (gives  him  paper)  See,  just  there,  sir. 

MANNERING.  (comes  down  L.  c.)  By  Jove ! 
What  luck ! 

ANSTRUTHER.  Do  you  know,  I  think  I'll  telegraph 
for  confirmation  of  this. 

BINGHAM.     Yes,  sir. 

ANSTRUTHER.  But  I'm  coming  back  to  meet  your 
sister. 

(Exit  off  R.  c.) 
(BINGHAM  goes  up  c.) 

MANNERING.  Yes,  sir.  I  hope  it's  true.  But 
journalists  are  so  infernally  imaginative. 

BINGHAM.  (comes  down  c.)  Yes.  They  begin 
so  young.  They  ought  to  serve  a  five  years'  appren- 
ticeship with  invisible  ink.  (throws  cap  on  couch) 

MANNERING.     If  only  I  can  dodge  the  duns  ! 

BINGHAM.  Dodge  the  duns  ?  Nothing  easier. 
When  the  trooper's  on  the  tide,  the  bailiffs  shed  as 
many  tears  as  the  girls  we  leave  behind.  Different 
class  of  "  tear  "  perhaps,  but  I  fancy  it  takes  longer 
to  dry.  (up  R.) 

MANNERING.  What  a  queer  thing  it  would  be  if  he 
and  Muriel — but,  of  course — it  isn't  possible. 


ACT!.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  47 

(Chatter  heard  off  R.) 

BINGHAM.     What  are  you  mumbling  about  ? 

MANNERING.     I — mumbling  ?     Oh,  nothing,  (aside) 
I'll  ask  the  Colonel  for  a  day's  leave.     I'll  have  a  last 
shot  at  raising  the  wind  in  town. 
(Enter  LADY  HARBURGH,  R.,    MURIEL,  NORAH,  BAR- 
KER and  HILDEBRAND.     LADY  HARBURGH  comes 

down  c.  to  armchair  L.  c.     MURIEL  comes  down  R., 

sits  on  R.  of  sofa  R.    NORAH  sits  on  centre  of  seat  up 

R.  c.    HILDEBRAND  sits  on  her  R.) 

BINGHAM.  Ah,  here  you  are.  (comes  at  back  to 
L.  c.)  Capital !  Will  you  take  charge  of  the  tea  table, 
Lady  Harburgh  ? 

LADY  HARBURGH.    With  pleasure  ! 

BINGHAM.     (goes  to  back  of  sofa  R.)    King  the  bell, 
Tins,  will  you  ? 
BARKER  goes  L.  c.,  rings  bell  by  desk,  places  cane  and 

gloves  on  desk,  then  takes  cup  of  tea  and  jug  of  milk 

to  MURIEL.) 

LADY  HARBURGH.  (pours  out  tea)  Where's  Colonel 
Anstruther  ? 

MANNERING.  He's  with  the  Adjutant.  He'll  be 
here  in  a  moment,  (goes  down  L.  to  paper  tables,  and 
looks  at  newspapers) 

BINGHAM.  (back  of  sofa,  in  a  whisper  to  MURIEL) 
He's  to  be  our  best  man,  you  know. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Colonel  Anstruther  is  a  very 
able  officer,  I  believe.  That,  of  course,  is  why  they 
gave  him  command  of  the  regiment. 


48  SECOND   IN  COMMAND.  [ACT  I. 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  rather  an  unusual  reason  in  the 
British  Army. 

LADY  HARBURGH.    If  it's  not  a  rude  question, 
Major  Bingham,  why  didn't  you  get  it  ? 
(BARKER  and  HILDEBRAND  take  tea  to  NORAH,  who 
takes  BARKER'S.    BARKER  sits  ~by  NORAH.) 

BINGHAM.    Well,  I  was  rather  busy  at  the  time. 

(Enter  MEDENHAM  with  jug  of  hot  water  on  salver.) 
Then  I'm  not  in  a  very  good  odour  with  the  powers 
that  be.     I've  criticized  their  methods  freely,  and  got 
into — 

MEDENHAM.     (R.  of  BINGHAM)    Hot  water,  sir  ? 

BINGHAM.    Eh  ?    Oh,  ah,  yes. 

(HARTOPP  enters  R.  with  cake  stand.    MEDENHAM  goes 
to  him,  takes  cake  stand  and  gives  him  salver ;  MEDEN- 
HAM places  stand  above.) 
Intelligent  waiter,  that. 

(Exit  MEDENHAM,  R.) 

LADY  HARBURGH.  I  suppose  all  important  com- 
mands and  staff  appointments  nowadays  are  made 
by  selection. 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  to  a  certain  extent.  That  is  to  say, 
War  Office  officials  as  a  rule  select  themselves,  (re- 
turns sugar  to  table) 

LADY  HARBURGH.    Whether  competent  or  not. 
BINGHAM.     (takes  plate  of  cakes)    Competence  isn't 
included  in  the  requirements. 

(HILDEBRAND  stands  behind  tea-table.) 


ACT  I.]  SECOND   IN  COMMAND.  49 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Really?  Then  let  us  hope, 
Major  Bingham,  that  you  have  a  brilliant  career 
before  you. 

(HiLDEBRAND  laughs.) 

BINGHAM.  How  good  of  you  !  Thanks  awfully. 
(takes  cake  to  MURIEL)  Kind  woman,  isn't  she  ? 

LADY  HARBURGH.  You  know  there's  a  wonderful 
charm  in  picnicking  in  rooms  that  are  used  by  men, 
and  men  only. 

BINGHAM.  (comes  c.)  Really  ?  (places  plate  on 
stand) 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Yes.  Such  a  comfortable 
absence  of  things  that  are  easily  knocked  over. 

BINGHAM.  Yes.  Gives  you  more"room  for  bowling 
over  individuals. 

LADY  HARBURGH.    Perhaps  ! 

BINGHAM.  (goes  to  MURIEL)  Lady  Harburgh  is 
inclined  to  be  a  little  distant,  don't  you  think  ? 

MURIEL.    I  suppose  she  is. 

(LADY  HARBURGH  and  MANNERING  converse  audibly 
L.  c.    BARKER  and  NORAH  talk  up  R.) 

BINGHAM.  (sits)  So  I've  come  here  to  keep  it  up 
— geographically.  You've  no  idea  how  absurdly 
happy  I  am.  I  am  light-hearted  and  light-headed  as  a 
happy  madman  that  has  no  lucid  moments  whatever. 
I  suppose  you  don't — quite — feel  the  same  sort  of 
thing? 

MURIEL.  No,  not  quite.  You  remember  what  I 
told  you.  I  was  perfectly  frank  with  you. 


50  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [Acr  I. 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  oh,  yes.  I'm  not  complaining.  I 
was  only  wondering. 

MURIEL.  Perhaps  some  day  you  may  change, 
and 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  yes — and  then  you'll  feel  the 
warmth  of  the  sunshine  as  I  do.  By  the  way,  (looks 
over  to  L.,  then  aside  to  her)  there's  the  ring  to  be 
thought  of. 

(BARKER  rises,  places  cups  on  table  behind  seat  up  R., 
then  stands  at  window  c.  with  NORAH.) 

MURIEL.  The  ring  ?  Oh,  I  see — the  engagement 
ring. 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  doesn't  it  sound  exciting  ?  One 
can  almost  hear  the  wedding  bells  and  feel  the  scent 
of  the  orange  blossoms.  What  sort  of  ring  would  you 
like? 

(LADY  HARBURGH  laughs,  and  MANNERING  rises,  goes 
to  table  L.,  gets  photo  album,  brings  it  to  above  LADY 
HARBURGH  up  L.) 

MURIEL.  I'll  leave  it  to  you.  Don't  let  us  talk 
about  it  now.  I  feel  as  if  something  were  going  to 
happen. 

BINGHAM.    Happen  ?    What  ? 

MURIEL.     I  don't  know. 

BINGHAM.     Then  you'd  better  have  some  more  tea. 

(ORDERLY  crosses  at  back  from  R.  to  L.) 

MURIEL.    No,  thanks. 
BINGHAM.    I  wonder  what  it  is, 


Acrl.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  51 

MURIEL.     Oh,    imagination    probably.    It's    only 
natural  I  should  feel  excited. 

BINGHAM.     Yes,  yes,  of  course. 

BARKER.    Here  comes  the  Colonel. 
(BARKER  and  NORAH  go  to  window  R.    MANNERING 

places  album  on  table,  goes  up  c.  to  window  c.) 

LADY  HARBURGH.    I'm  so  glad  he's  coming. 

MURIEL.     The  Colonel  ? 

BINGHAM.    Yes,  our  best  man,  you  know. 

MURIEL.     What  is  the  name  ?     Quick — tell  me. 

BINGHAM.     Anstruther. 

MURIEL.     Colonel  Anstruther  ? 

BINGHAM.    Yes. 

MANNERING.     (looking    off    L.    c.)    An    orderly's 
stopped  him. 

LADY  HARBURGH.     I  suppose  he's  dreadfully  busy 
over  the  move. 

BINGHAM.     Yes,  he  has  lots  to  do. 

MURIEL,    (to  BINGHAM)    Isn't  he  coming  ? 

BINGHAM.     Yes,  if  you  like  you  can  see  him  from 
the  window. 

(NoRAH  and  BARKER  chatting  at  window,  rather  loudly, 
then  quietly.) 

MURIEL.    No,  I  don't  want  to. 

BINGHAM.    Muriel,  what  is  it  ? 

MURIEL.    Nothing,  I'd  rather  not.    What  is  he 
like? 

BINGHAM.    Anstruther  ?     Oh,  here  he  is. 

(Enter  R.  through  window,  COLONEL  ANSTRUTHER.) 


52  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [Aorl. 

ANSTRUTHER.  How  d'you  do  ?  I'm  so  sorry 
not  to  have  been  here  before,  but  a  thousand  little 
things  kept  me. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Oh,  we  quite  understand  how 
busy  you  must  be.  We've  had  a  most  excellent  tea. 

ANSTRUTHER.    That's  right. 

BINGHAM.  By  the  way,  Colonel,  you  haven't  met 
Miss  Mannering.  (turning  to  MURIEL)  May  I  intro- 
duce Colonel  Anstruther  ? 

MURIEL.  I  almost  seem  to  know  you,  Colonel 
Anstruther. 

ANSTRUTHER.  Oddly  enough  I  had  the  same 
feeling.  Possibly  because  of  your  likeness  to  your 
brother. 

MURIEL.     I  seem  to  know  your  face. 

ANSTRUTHER.     Then    we're    almost    old    friends. 

MURIEL.     Yes,  almost  old  friends. 

(MANNERING  calls  BINGHAM  to  see  photo.) 

CURTAIN. 


PROPERTIES 


ACT   II 

Brush  for  Medenham  at  fireplace. 

Tray,  coffee,  cura£oa  and  glasses,  etc.,  for  Hartopp. 

Pictures  on  walls. 

Bugler  and  bugle  picquet  calls,  etc. 

Anstruther  has  cheque  book. 

Writing  materials  including  blotting  pad  on  desk  on  left. 

Telegram  in  envelope  for  Medenham  to  hand  to  Anstruther. 

Photo  frame  on  piano. 

Medenham  with  tray,  whisky  and  soda,  cigars,  cigarettes,  etc. 

SONGS  READY 

"  Boys  old  Brigade." 

"  When  your  hair  grows  whiter." 

'Cello  solo—"  Star  of  Eve." 

"  Love's  old  sweet  song  "  (Bingham). 

"  Say  au  revoir." 

"  Wrap  me  up  in  my  stable  jacket." 


ACT  II 

SCENE. — COLONEL  ANSTRUTHER'S  quarters. 

(As  the  curtain  rises,  MEDENHAM  is  discovered  up  at 
fire,  brushing  hearth.  Enter  HARTOPP  with  tray 
of  coffee,  etc.,  goes  to  table  in  window.) 

MEDENHAM.  (turns)  They  ain't  ready  for  coffee 
yet.  They're  'avin'  dessert  and  the  Colonel's  'ealth. 

HARTOPP.  Wot  ?  Speechifying  ?  (puts  down 
tray) 

MEDENHAM.    Yes,  Binks  is  at  it  'ard. 

HARTOPP.     'E's  a  great  boy,  is  Binks. 

MEDENHAM.  What  d'ye  say  to  joining  in  the 
toast  ?  (hangs  up  brush) 

HARTOPP.  Eight  you  are  !  You  keep  sentry  go 
on  the  door  and  I'll  do  the  honours. 

MEDENHAM.  Eight !  (crosses  to  doors  up  R. 
and  listens) 

HARTOPP.     CuraQoa  ?     (pours  out  liqueur) 

MEDENHAM.  That's  the  touch.  Eum  shift  the 
Colonel  giving  a  farewell  dinner  in  his  quarters  just 
before  the  regiment  moves. 

HARTOPP.  'AvenVye  spotted  the  Colonel's  little 
game  ? 

56 


56  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [AoTlI. 

MEDENHAM.  (listening)  Not  I.  I've  been  pack- 
in'  in  the  mess  for  all  my  bloomin'  life's  worth. 

HARTOPP.     'E's  in  love. 

MEDENHAM.     (turns)    Go  on ! 

HARTOPP.  It's  straight,  (hands  glass)  'Ere, 
freeze  on  to  that. 

MEDENHAM.    Well,  Colonel's  health. 

HARTOPP.    And  Binks'  ? 

(Both  about  to  drink.) 

Steady  on.     (places  both  glasses  on  tray)    'Ere  comes 
a  squad  of  'em. 

(Both  attention.  Doors  open.  COLONEL  with  BARKER 
and  BINGHAM  are  seen  at  doors  with  LADIES,  all 
chatting.  LADY  HARBURGH  goes  to  seat  L.  c.  by 
fireplace,  sits.  NORAH  goes  up  c.  MURIEL  comes 
down  c.  Folding  doors  are  closed.) 
LADY  HARBURGH.  Thank  you,  Colonel,  (crosses  to 

L.  c . )     A  very  delightf ul  little  dinner  party.   Bachelors 

make  excellent  hosts. 

(HARTOPP  fills  coffee  cups.) 

NORAH.  (up  c.)  Yes,  they  do  clumsy  things  so 
genially.  As  a  rule  a  dinner  bores  me  horribly. 
Play  something,  Muriel,  (comes  down  to  piano) 

(MURIEL  sits  at  piano.) 

LADY  HARBURGH.  It  is  not  for  any  young  girl 
to  feel  bored.  As  you  go  through  life  you'll  find  the 
easily  bored  are  themselves  the  greatest  bores. 

HARTOPP.     Coffee,  my  lady. 


ACT  II.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  57 

(MURIEL  plays  piano.) 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Thank  you.  (to  MEDENHAM) 
Isn't  Colonel  Anstruther  going  to  pack  all  these  things 
of  his  ?  (indicates  articles  in  room) 

MEDENHAM.  Well,  you  see,  my  lady,  strange  as 
it  may  seem,  we  don't  take  furniture  and  lamps  and 
pictures  on  active  service. 

LADY  HARBURGH.    I  don't  suppose  you  do. 

MEDENHAM.  They  might  'amper  us  in  action. 
No,  my  lady,  after  we've  gone,  a  firm  in  the  town 
packs  and  stores  them. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  I  see.  Well,  I'm  sure  we  all 
wish  you  every  success  in  the  forthcoming  campaign. 

MEDENHAM.  Thank  you,  my  lady.  We  'ope  in  a 
quiet  way  to  assert  the  supremacy  of  British  arms. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  I  understand  there  is  a  camp 
fire,  an  open  air  concert,  or  some  such  function  to- 
night ? 

MEDENHAM.  Yes,  my  lady,  just  outside  under 
the  trees  ;  you'll  find  chairs  placed  for  the  Officers' 
party. 

(MURIEL  stops  playing  and  goes  up  c.  to  window.) 
LADY  HARBURGH.    Thank  you. 

(Exeunt  HARTOPP  and  MEDENHAM.) 

MURIEL,  (up  c.)  What  a  perfect  evening.  And 
all  these  lighted  barrack-rooms  filled  with  men  who 
soon  will  be  sleeping  on  the  open  veldt,  (comes 
down  a  little  c.) 


68  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  [ACT  II. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Exactly.  All  of  which  means 
that  you've  very  little  time  to  lose. 

MURIEL,     (up  c.)    I — I  don't  understand. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  My  dear  Muriel,  to  close  one's 
eyes  is  somewhat  discreet,  to  be  blind — never. 

(MURIEL  comes  in  front  to  L.  of  fire.) 

I  mean  that,  were  I  a  young  woman  and  knew  that 
two  men  were  devoted  to  me,  I  should  arrange  a 
crisis  before  their  embarkation. 

MURIEL.  What  ?  To  scheme  for  my  own  selfish 
ends? 

LADY  HARBURGH.    Partly,  dear,  for  mine. 

MURIEL,  (bitterly)  Oh,  of  course,  I  forgot,  quite 
forgot  that  I  exist  on — on  your  charity. 

LADY  HARBURGH.    Muriel ! 

MURIEL,  (a  step  to  her)  Forgive  me  !  I  didn't 
mean  it.  You've  been  very  good  to  me,  and  I  haven't 
been  worth  it. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Kemember,  you  won't  always 
be  young.  There  comes  the  day  when  the  roses  and 
the  lilies  fade,  when  the  soft  cadences  of  a  young 
voice  change  to  the  shrill  arpeggios  of  middle  age. 

MURIEL.    Yes,  I  know,     (sits  L.  of  fire) 

LADY  HARBURGH.  You  must  have  noticed  Colonel 
Anstruther's  very  marked  admiration.  He  scarcely 
touched  a  morsel  at  dinner. 

MURIEL.  I'm  very  sorry  that  I  should  be  responsi- 
ble for  any  loss  of  appetite. 

LADY  HARBURGH.    It's  an  infallible  indication  of 


ACT  II.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  59 

a  leaning  towards  matrimony.  When  poor  Har- 
burgh  and  I  were  first  engaged,  lie  practically  lived 
on  sandwiches. 

u  NORAH.  (laughs)  It's  quite  different  with  Hilde- 
brand.  The  more  he's  in  love  the  more  he  eats  and 
drinks,  (laughs)  To-night  he  drank  everybody's 
health  separately. 

LADY  HARBURGH.    Hildebrand  never  exceeds. 

NORAH.    Hum !    hum !    We  shall  see  presently. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  We  will  see  at  once,  (rises, 
opens  door  and  calls)  Hildebrand  ! 

HILDEBRAND.     (off)    Mother ! 

LADY  HARBURGH.  I  cannot  believe  that  a  son  of 
mine  could  possibly  consume  more  than  is  adequate 
to  meet  the  requirements  of  a  warm  summer  evening. 

(HILDEBRAND   appears.    In  the  following  scene  he 
only  indicates  very  slight  excess.) 

HILDEBRAND.    You  want  me,  mother  ? 

LADY  HARBURGH.  What  have  you  been  doing, 
Hildebrand  ? 

HILDEBRAND.    I    am — about — to    make — speech. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  I  can  hardly  believe  it,  but 
you  certainly  import  an  alcoholic  atmosphere. 

HILDEBRAND,  I  do  not  deny  it.  Strong  waters 
are  the  glory  of  a  man  and  the  shame — of  a  woman. 
I  forbid  you  to  refer  to  them. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  My  only  regret  is  that  the 
carriage  is  not  here.  If  it  were,  I  should  send  you 
home  at  once. 


60  SECOND   IN  COMMAND.  .  [Aor  II. 

HILDEBRAND.  Wild  horses  would  not  drag  me. 
I  have  made  up  my  mind. 

NORAH.     To  what,  Billy  ? 

HILDEBRAND.  I  am  going  in  for  something — 
once  an'  for  all. 

NORAH.     That's  quite  right.     What  is  it  ? 

HILDEBRAND.     I  don't  know.    Whatever  you  like. 

LADY  HARBURGH.    Sit  down. 

HILDEBRAND.  (collapses  into  chair  L.  of  piano) 
Pleasure.  And  having  taken  the  chair — I  am  about 
to  make — speech. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  It  is  only  too  obvious  that 
idleness  is  the  mother  of  vice. 

HILDEBRAND.  Yes,  and  what  an  enormous  family 
she  has. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Your  deplorable  condition  is 
enough  to  rouse  the  Maclachlans  of  the  Hebrides  in 
their  mountain  graves. 

HILDEBRAND.  The  Maclachlans  of  the  Hebrides 
sleeping  peacefully  under  the  "  mountain  dew." 
What  a  beautiful  idea. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  You  will  be  good  enough  at 
least  to  show  a  perfunctory  reverence  for  your 
mother's  ancestors. 

HILDEBRAND.  I  have  been — credibly  informed 
that  the  Maclachlans  of  the  Hebrides  were — never 
sober. 

LADY  HARBURGH.    Oh  !    (turns  to  MURIEL) 

NORAH.  Oh  !  Hildebrand  !  (comes  down  to  back 
of  HILDEBRAND) 


ACT  II.]  SECOND   IN  COMMAND.  61 

HILDEBRAND.  Fact !  Mother  has  often  told  me 
so  herself. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  (comes  c.)  It  may  be  that 
the  storm  and  stress  of  the  middle  ages — 

HILDEBRAND.  (gravely)  That  was  no  excuse. 
(smiles)  Don't  whitewash  them,  mother.  The  world 
is  as  parched  now  as  in  mediaeval  days,  occasionally 
more  so.  (gravely)  And  it  is  my  duty  to  fight— 
'gainst  her-heredit-t-tary  tendencies. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Do  not  attempt  to  pronounce 
words  of  so  many  syllables. 

(Song  heard  off  R.     "  The  Boys  of  the  Old  Brigade.  ") 

HILDEBRAND.  I  doubt  if  you  could  say  her- 
hereditary  tendencies  three  times  quickly. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  I  have  no  intention  of  trying. 
(goes  up  c.) 

HILDEBRAND.  Ha !  Ha !  No  enterprise,  (sits 
at  piano) 

LADY  HARBURGH.    Listen !     The  camp  fire  has 
begun.     Come,  Muriel,  let  us  breathe  the  fresh  night 
air,  the  atmosphere  is  vitiated.     And  by  a  son — of 
my  own. 
(HILDEBRAND  plays  on  piano  with  one  finger,  "  We 

won't  go  home  till  morning") 
(Exeunt  LADY  HARBURGH  and  MURIEL.) 

NORAH.    Hildebrand  ! 

HILDEBRAND.  Take  care !  (repeats  "  We  won't 
go  home  till  morning") 

NORAH.    What  do  you  mean? 


62  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [Acr  II. 

HILDEBRAND.  I'm  vitiated,  (repeats  "  We  won't 
go  home  till  morning  ") 

NORAH.  (closes  piano)  Listen !  It  was  I  who 
told  Aunt  Agatha  that  you  had  had  such  quantities 
of  wine. 

HILDEBRAND.  (opens  piano)  Did  you  ?  I  for- 
give you — fully  and  freely,  (concludes  "  and  then 
we  won't  go  home  ") 

(HILDEBRAND  turns  to  NORAH,  ivho  has  gone  to  L.  c. 
and  then  returns  to  R.  c.) 

I  had  a  special  opportunity  for  enjoyment  at  dinner 
to-night.  A  large  azalea  on  the  table  formed  a 
zereba  against  mother's  ancestral  eye.  I  feel  abso- 
lutely altruistic. 

NORAH.  Now,  understand  me.  I  will  never 
marry  you  until  you  have  got  an  appointment  of  some 
sort.  And  you  must  give  me  your  word  of  honour 
never  to  touch  wine  again  until  you  do. 

HILDEBRAND.    Does  wine  include  spirits  ? 

NORAH.    Of  course  it  does. 

HILDEBRAND.    And  beer  ? 

NORAH.    It  does. 

HILDEBRAND.  Well — I  promise — but — I'll  get 
'pointment  to-morrow. 

(Bugle  heard  off,  "  Piquet  Call:') 
(Enter  BARKER  and  MANNERING.) 

MANNERING.    Why  on  earth  is  the  piquet  call 


ACT  II.]  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  63 

going  now  ?     You  lucky  people,  with  nothing  to  do 
but  eat,  drink  and  be  merry. 

(Exit  NORAH.) 
Hallo,  Carstairs. 

(Enter  MEDENHAM.) 
HILDEBRAND.    Excuse  me,  I'm  in  great  trouble. 

(Exit.) 
(Bugle  heard  off,  "  Piquet  Call ") 

MEDENHAM.  Your  sword  and  cap,  sir.  Excuse 
me,  Sir  Walter,  I  think  you'd  better  go  out  by  the 
lawn. 

MANNERING.    Keally,  why  ? 

MEDENHAM.  There's  a  man  outside  with  a  war- 
rant of  arrest  for  debt,  sir,  asking  for  you.  I  said  you 
wasn't  in  barracks.  "  Well,"  says  he,  "he  ought 
to  be,  as  I  happen  to  know  he's  Orderly  Officer." 
I'd  made  a  slight  mistake,  sir,  and  he  won't  go  away. 

MANNERING.  Thank  you,  Medenham — I'm  glad 
you  told  me. 

(Bugle    call    repeat    "  Piquet    Call "    farther    away.) 
(Exit  MANNERING  and  MEDENHAM.) 

(Enter  COLONEL  ANSTRUTHER,  who  goes  to  L.  c.,  and 
BINGHAM,  who  goes  into  window  c.) 

BINGHAM.     (as  they  enter)     But  you  know— 
ANSTRUTHER.    No,  I  can't  agree  with  you — Hallo  ! 
an   empty   room!     Where's   everybody?     (over  L.) 
BINGHAM.    Gone  to  the  sing-song  probably.    By 


64  SECOND    IN    COMMAND.  [ACT  II. 

Jove,  what  a  divine  night.  Life  is  smiling  to-night, 
Miles,  absolutely  beaming.  The  very  stars  are 
twinkling  in  sheer  delight.  Look  at  them. 

ANSTRUTHER.     Have  a  cigar  ?     (sits  armchair  L.) 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  give  me  anything,  everything. 
Wine,  stars,  tobacco,  moonlight,  love.  I'm  a  king 
to-night — let  everything  pay  me  tribute,  (sits  on 
settee) 

ANSTRUTHER.  If  high  spirits  are  an  indication, 
Kit,  your  moral  barometer  is  rising. 

BINGHAM.  Kising,  Miles  ?  Why,  it's  risen.  The 
mercury  has  pressed  to  the  tip-top  of  the  tube,  and 
the  weather's  perfectly  astonishing. 

ANSTRUTHER.  Mercury  no  doubt  associated  with 
Venus. 

BINGHAM.  Ah,  there  you  are  !  I  can't  tell  you ; 
I've  given  a  promise.  But,  look  here — no,  no, — 
honour  bright,  I  can't  tell  you. 

ANSTRUTHER.     Perhaps  I  can  find  out. 

BINGHAM.  No,  I  think  not.  I've  been  discreet 
and  loyal.  Not  a  soul  has  an  idea  of  what  has 
happened. 

ANSTRUTHER.     So  a  lover  always  thinks. 

BINGHAM.  Does  he  ?  Yes,  I  suppose  in  the  eyes 
of  the  world  the  lover  is  a  fool.  But,  Miles,  it's  a 
glorious  folly,  beyond  the  reach  of  the  poor  cynics 
who  laugh  at  us  with  the  mirthless  envy  they  call 
philosophy.  If  they  felt  as  I  feel,  they'd  know. 
Miles,  Miles,  if  you  only  knew. 

ANSTRUTHER.     I've  an  odd  idea  that  I  do.     But 


ACT  II.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  65 

I  never  dreamed  that  you  suffered  so  acutely  from 
the  artistic  temperament. 

BlNGHAM.      Do   I  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.     Obviously. 

BINGHAM.  I  didn't  know.  I  always  associate  the 
artistic  temperament  with  persons  who  eat  enor- 
mously. When  they're  really  dyspeptic  you  get 
originality. 

(Both  laugh.) 

You  know,  a  chap  like  old — 

ANSTRUTHER.     Kit,  I  want  you  to  be  serious. 

BINGHAM.  Right !  That's  one  of  the  lover's 
deep  delights — to  be  mad  one  moment  and  sane  the 
next.  What  is  it  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  I've  found  out  that  young  Manner- 
ing  is  in  very  low  financial  water. 

BINGHAM.     Yes,  I  know  he  is,  poor  chap. 

ANSTRUTHER.  There's  a  chance  of  his  not  getting 
out  with  us. 

BINGHAM.    As  bad  as  that  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  (rises  and  goes  down  L.)  Yes. 
Now — I  hate  to  say  it — but  I'm  what  you  call — 

BINGHAM.     (rises)    A  rich  man  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.    Yes,  Kit,  that's  what  I  meant. 

BINGHAM.  Miles — I  suppose  I  ought  to  say 
"  Colonel,"  but  I  can't — you  are  a  good  sort. 

ANSTRUTHER.  There  you  go,  jumping  at  con- 
clusions. 

BINGHAM.     Yes  ;  because  I've  guessed. 

B 


66  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [Acr  II. 

ANSTRUTHER.    Well  ?     What  d'you  say  ? 

BINGHAM.  He  wouldn't  take  it.  Nothing  short 
of  three  thousand  would  clear  him.  He'd  never 
take  it. 

ANSTRUTHER.  I  suppose  he  wouldn't.  I  haven't 
known  him  a  month  yet,  but  there's  another  way. 

BINGHAM.     What  other  way? 

ANSTRUTHER.  He'd  take  it  from  you.  (goes  to 
desk) 

BINGHAM.  Possibly  !  The  difficulty  there  is  that 
he'd  never  get  it. 

ANSTRUTHER.  No  !  But  I  could  hand  the  money 
over  to  you.  See — here's  my  cheque  book.  You 
pay  that  into  your  account  and  hand  Mannering  a 
cheque  of  your  own  for  the  amount. 

BINGHAM.  But,  good  Heavens  !  You  don't  sup- 
pose that  he'd  believe  I  had  that  amount  to  distribute 
like — like  a  tract. 

ANSTRUTHER.    Why  not  ? 

BINGHAM.  (sits  at  end  of  piano)  Everybody 
knows  I  was  never  out  of  debt  in  my  life.  You 
ask  my  tailor,  he'll  tell  you.  I  never  pay  for  clothes 
till  long  after  they've  been  given  to  the  poor. 

ANSTRUTHER.  Well  then,  you've  suddenly  come 
into  a  fortune.  That's  quite  possible. 

BINGHAM.  It  isn't  really.  Not  if  you  knew  my 
people.  They're  all  distinguished  but  unmarketable 
folk  who  exist  on  pensions  or  annuities. 

ANSTRUTHER.  That  doesn't  matter,  (tears  cheque 
out  and  blots  it)  Come,  Eat,  in  the  vocabulary  of  a 


ACT  II.]  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  67 

(rises)  Cavalry  Major,  there's  no  such  word  as  "  fail." 
(comes  up  to  fire,  dries  cheque  at  fire) 

BINGHAM.  Isn't  there  ?  Not  in  yours,  perhaps, 
but  there  is  in  mine.  I  say,  bar  chaff — do  you  really 
think  I  could  do  it  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  Of  course  you  could.  So  take  the 
cheque,  like  a  good  soul.  I  can't  stand  by  and  see  a 
promising  young  boy  go  to  the  dogs. 

BINGHAM.  (takes  cheque)  You're  one  in  a  thou- 
sand, Miles,  and  I'll  do  it.  (sits  L.  of  fire)  I  say,  you 
know,  they'll  howl  with  laughter  when  I  hint  that 
I've  acquired  a  fortune  and  eleemosynary  tendencies. 

(Song  heard  in  distance,   "  When  your  hair  grows 
whiter.") 

ANSTRUTHER.  You  know,  Kit,  what  I'm  doing  is 
not  so  disinterested  as  it  seems. 

BINGHAM.    No  ! 

ANSTRUTHER.    For  I'm — I'm  in  love  at  last. 

BINGHAM.  Oh — what  you  ?  Oh,  no,  you  don't 
say  so,  really  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.    Yes  !     I  see  life  just  as  you  do. 

BINGHAM.    That's  awfully  funny. 

ANSTRUTHER.  Yes !  Isn't  it  ?  (slaps  BINGHAM 
on  shoulder)  Kit,  we're  middle-aged  fools,  you  and 
I,  but  we  don't  look  for  wisdom  as  long  as  the 
midsummer  folly  lasts. 

BINGHAM.  And — if  it's  a  fair  question — who  is 
she? 

ANSTRUTHER.    Kit,  Mannermg's  sister— Muriel, 


08  SECOND  IN   COMMAND.  [Acr  IT. 

(Singing  rises  and  falls.) 

BINGHAM.     What !  !  ! 

ANSTRUTHER.    You  never  dreamt  of  that,  did  you  ? 

BINGHAM.    No — it  never — occurred  to  me. 

ANSTRUTHER.    And  you've  nothing  to  say? 

BINGHAM.  (rises)  To  say  ?  Why — yes — of 
course  I  have — lots,  (goes  ton.  c.)  You  see,  Colonel, 
these  things  always  come  as  a  surprise. 

ANSTRUTHER.     I  haven't  spoken  yet,  you  know. 

BINGHAM.  Of  course  you're  prepared  for — possible 
refusal  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.    No,  I  don't  think  I  am. 

BINGHAM.    No  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  No  !  One  can  read  the  answer  in 
the  eyes  long  before  the  question  is  put.  You  must 
have  found  that. 

BINGHAM.  No,  I  don't  know  that  I  have,  (goes 
to  down  R.)  At  least,  not  always  the  correct  answer. 

(Enter  NORAH,  L.  c.) 

NORAH.  (down  c.)  Please,  Major  Bingham,  we 
all  want  you.  It's  such  a  lovely  night,  and  the  men 
are  singing  choruses  beautifully. 

BINGHAM.  (up  to  piano)  What  ?  (hand  on  piano) 
Miss  Mannering  sent  you  ? 

NORAH.  No,  but  she's  there.  Come  along,  (up 
to  back  of  seat  L.  c.)  You  don't  mind  my  taking  him 
away,  do  you,  Colonel  Anstruther  ?  He's  promised 
to  sing. 

ANSTRUTHER,    Have  you,  Kit  ? 


ACT  II.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  69 

BINGHAM.  I  believe  I  have. 
NORAH.  Does  he  sing  well  ? 
ANSTRUTHER.  He — er — sings,  (turns  to  fire  again) 

(Exit  NORAH.) 

Kit — dear  old  happy-go-lucky  Kit — he  can't  have 
fallen  a  captive  to  that  little  madcap.  No,  no,  he's 
too  old  a  soldier. 

(Enter  MEDENHAM,  R.) 

MEDENHAM.    Telegram,  sir. 

ANSTRUTHER.     Official  ?     (advances  to  c.) 

MEDENHAM.     Yes,  sir,  to  Commanding  Officer. 

ANSTRUTHER.  It's  late  for  a  telegram,  (goes  to  L., 
reads  telegram  under  lamp  above  desk)  From  "  Brigade 
Major.  The  regiment  under  your  command  will 
embark  at  Southampton — 

(Enter  MURIEL.) 

on  Friday,  the  8th  inst.,  for  service  in  South  Africa. 
You  will  receive  fully  detailed  instructions  by  9  a.m. 
to-morrow." 

MEDENHAM.  (eagerly)  Orders  for  the  front,  sir  ? 
(draws  himself  to  attention) 

ANSTRUTHER.  Eh !  Oh  !  (surprised)  Yes, 
Medenham,  we're  of!  in  three  days.  Take  this  to  the 
Adjutant  at  once.  I'll  see  him  myself  presently. 

MEDENHAM.    Yes,  sir. 

(Exit  down  R.) 
ANSTRUTHER.    Three    days'    time*    (places    cigar 


70  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [AcTll. 

on  mantelshelf,  turns  to  c.)    Miss  Mannering,  I  didn't 
see  you  come  in. 

MURIEL.  I'm  so  sorry,  Colonel  Anstruther.  I 
accidentally  overheard. 

ANSTRUTHER.  There's  no  reason  why  you 
shouldn't.  I'd  have  told  you  myself  in  any  case. 

MURIEL.    And  you  go  in  three  days'  time  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.    Yes  ;  you'll  miss  us  a  little,  I  hope. 

MURIEL.     More  than  a  little. 

(Singing  ceases — no  applause.) 

ANSTRUTHER.  Of  course  !  I'd  forgotten,  there's 
Walter.  That  must  mean  a  great  break.  Your 
only  brother. 

MURIEL.  Poor  Walter  !  One  can  only  try  and  be 
glad  that  he  is  going  to  realize  an  ambition  and  see 
active  service.  You've  seen  a  great  deal  already, 
haven't  you  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  Oh,  yes  !  I've  had  my  share  of 
luck. 

MURIEL.  And  your  Distinguished  Service  Medal. 
How  splendid  that  was.  That  wasn't  a  case  of  luck. 

ANSTRUTHER.  I  think  it  was.  I  only  did  what  a 
hundred  others  were  ready  to  do.  Far  finer  things 
have  been  done  quite  quietly  by  men  who  were  never 
even  mentioned  in  despatches.  Still — there's  only 
one  thing  on  earth  I'd  exchange  the  little  enamel 
cross  for. 

MURIEL.    No,  surely — there's  nothing. 

ANSTRUTHER.  Yes,  and  it's  something  that  you 
could  give. 


ACT  II.]  SECOND   IN*  COMMAND.  71 

MURIEL.     That  I  could  give  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.    Yes,  only  you. 

MURIEL.     Colonel  Anstruther.     (a  step  down) 

ANSTRUTHER.  It  isn't  hard  to  guess,  is  it  ?  Shall 
I  tell  you  ? 

MURIEL.     No,  no  !     I  mustn't  hear — I'm  afraid  to. 

ANSTRUTHER.  There's  nothing  to  be  afraid  of— 
nothing  you  need — 

MURIEL.  Yes,  yes,  there  is.  You — you  don't 
know. 

ANSTRUTHER.    I  know  that  I  love  you. 

(MURIEL  movzs  down.) 

Yes — you  must  let  me  say  it.  You  can't  deny  me 
that.  Muriel,  you  must  have  ^seen  it. 

MURIEL.    You  don't  know  how  you're  hurting  me 

ANSTRUTHER.    Muriel ! 

MURIEL.    No,  no,  I  can't — indeed  I  can't  listen. 

ANSTRUTHER.  I  only  want  to  tell  you  the  truth. 
I'm  not  capable  of  hurting  you.  For  days  and  nights 
I've  been  waiting  for  this  hour  to  come.  And  now — 
now — I'm  alone  with  you,  we  sail  in  a  day  or  two,  and 
I  can't  keep  back  the  truth. 

(MURIEL  moves  down.) 

You  must  hear  it.  Love  had  been  to  me  the  merest 
fairy  tale  till  with  an  invisible  wand  you  touched 
it  into  reality. 

(Start  'cello  solo.) 

And  then — of  a  sudden — my  eyes  were  opened,  I  was 
awake,  and  life  had  a  new  meaning. 


72  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  [Acrll. 

('Cello  solo  heard  in  distance  playing  "  Star  of  Eve"  ) 

MURIEL.     Yes — a  new  meaning. 

ANSTRUTHER.  Muriel,  I  haven't  been  blind.  I 
know  that  you  love  me. 

MURIEL.     No,   no,   I   can't.     I   haven't  the  right 

ANSTRUTHER.  Not  the  right  to  ?  Why — that 
day  we  met  I  swear  I  read  it  in  your  eyes  that  we 
were  each  the  gift  of  life  to  the  other.  Muriel — why — 
you're  trembling,  (takes  her  hand) 

MURIEL.  Yes,  I'm  trembling  with  happiness  and 
pain. 

ANSTRUTHER.    Pain  ? 

MURIEL.  Yes  ;  that  a  happy  dreamland  has  come 
into  view  that  can  only  fade  away. 

ANSTRUTHER.     But  why — why  fade  away  ? 

MURIEL,     (removes  her  hand)    I  am  not  free. 

ANSTRUTHER.  Not  free  ?  (moves  to  c.)  I  didn't 
know  I  never  dreamt  of  that,  (hand  on  chair  c.) 
You — you  must  forgive  me  for  speaking. 

MURIEL.  You  see  how  quickly  the  day  dream 
dies.  But  there  is  nothing  to  forgive,  only  something 
never  to  be  forgotten. 

ANSTRUTHER.    And  I  may  not  ask  you— 

MURIEL.  No  ;  we'll  let  it  end  as  it  is.  It's  just 
been  a  day  dream.  Something  one  sees  for  a  moment 
in  the  sky  at  sunset,  or  in  the  embers  of  a  fire  in 
winter,  something  one  feels  of  a  sudden  and  wonders 
at,  but  can't  keep  hold  of. 

ANSTRUTHER.     And  you've  no  vague  little  hope 


ACT  II.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  73 

to  hold  out  ?     Nothing  I  can  take  to  sea  as  a  talis- 
man ?     No  whispered  "  perhaps  "  ? 
MURIEL.    No  !    Nothing  ! 

(A  pause.  Then  COLONEL  turns  slowly  up  and  goes 
to  door  R.  As  he  is  about  to  close  them  MANNERING 
appears  through  window  c.  He  catches  the  glimpse 
of  the  COLONELS  back.  MURIEL  crosses  slowly 
and  sadly  up  L.  by  fire.  MANNERING  removes  his 
sword  and  cap,  places  them  on  table  R.  of  window, 
gazing  from  the  closed  doors  to  MURIEL  intently.) 

MANNERING.  Muriel — why — what's  the  matter  ? 
(comes  to  c.) 

MURIEL,  (up  L.)  It's  nothing,  Walter.  Only 
that — Colonel  Anstruther  told  me— 

MANNERING.    Yes — what  ? 

MURIEL.     That  you  sail  in  three  days. 

MANNERING.     The  orders  have  come  ? 

MURIEL,  (sits  on  chair  c.)  Yes,  he's  got  a  tele- 
gram. And  now  that  it's  so  near  I'm  nervous  and 
unhappy.  We've  never  been  really  separated  before, 
and  somehow — having  no  one  else  but  you — I  feel 
alone  and  almost  afraid. 

MANNERING.  (comes  to  her).  Muriel,  I  haven't 
been  half  the  brother  to  you  that  I  ought,  (takes  her 
hands) 

MURIEL.  Yes,  you  have.  Don't  say  that.  You've 
always  been  good  and  kind,  Walter.  You  remember 
the  night  when  we  both  promised  mother  to  be  every- 
thing to  each  other,  even  if  a  sacrifice  were  necessary  ? 


74  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [Aci  II. 

MANNERING.    Yes,  I  remember. 

MURIEL.     That  was  the  last  thing  she  said  to  me. 

MANNERING.    I  know. 

MURIEL.  And  when  you're  far  away,  and  perhaps 
suffering,  I  want  you  always  to  remember  that  I  am 
praying  for  you,  not  now  and  then,  but  always. 

MANNERING.  (comes  to  down  c.)  Muriel — perhaps 
— I  may  not  go. 

('Cello  stops.) 

MURIEL.    Not  go  ? 

MANNERING.  No  !  There's  a  writ  for  debt  out 
against  me  and  the  Colonel  would  never  let  me  go 
if  he  came  to  ktoow  of  it. 

MURIEL.    Walter  !     (leans  on  chair  c.) 

MANNERING.  It's  true.  I've  tried  to  raise  the 
money  and  failed,  hopelessly. 

.  MURIEL,  (comes  to  R.  c.)  But,  Walter — it's  terri- 
ble. It  means  disgrace,  doesn't  it  ?  How  did  it 
happen  ? 

MANNERING.  Don't  ask  me,  dear,  (crosses  to  L.) 
It  wouldn't  help  us.  (up  to  fire)  I've  been  a  spend- 
thrift blackguard  and  it's  over,  (sits  on  seat  up  L.C.) 

MURIEL.    What's  to  be  done  ? 

MANNERING.  Nothing.  I  thought  for  a  moment 
when  I  saw  you  with  the  Colonel,  that — there  was 
just  a  chance 

MURIEL.    A  chance  ?     Of  what  ? 

MANNERING.  No,  I  can't  tell  you.  I've  been  vile 
enough  as  it  is. 

MURIEL,     (up  to  him).    But  you  must  tell  me, 


ACT  II.]  SECOND  IN   COMMAND.  75 

Walter.  Don't  you  see  that  we've  nobody  but  each 
other  to  help  us  now.  What  is  it  ?  What  is  it  ? 
Quick  !  (leans  over  him,  L.) 

MANNERING.  Fenwick,  the  lawyer,  said  he  might 
raise  the  money  if  you  were  going  to  marry  a  rich 
man — like  the  Colonel.  He  really  meant  that  he 
would  lend  it  himself  and  take  the  risk. 

MURIEL.    I — to  marry  Colonel  Anstruther  ? 

MANNERING.    Yes. 

MURIEL.  You  can't  realize  what  you're  saying, 
Walter.  The  bare  idea  of  scheming  and  trafficking 
in  marriage  is  revolting — horrible. 

MANNERING.  Of  course — it's  a  wild  scheme  and 
impossible.  I'd  never  have  spoken  of  it,  but  in  the 
last  few  days  I  got  an  idea  that  he  really  cared  for  you. 

MURIEL,  (goes  down  R.  c.)  Hush  !  You  mustn't 
say  that.  I've — I've  promised  to  be  Kit's  wife. 

MANNERING.    What  ? 

MURIEL.  Yes.  I  meant  to  tell  you  before  this, 
but — somehow  I  couldn't. 

MANNERING.    And  you  really  love  him — love  Kit  ? 

MURIEL.    I — yes 

MANNERING.    Muriel ! 

MURIEL.    Yes,  Walter,  really. 

MANNERING.  I'd  no  idea  of  that.  I'd  never  have 
uttered  a  word — 

MURIEL.  I  know  you  wouldn't.  But  I  must 

think (crosses  to  R.)  I  must  have  time.  Is  it 

much  ? 

MANNERING.    The  money  ?     (down  L.) 


76  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [Acrlf. 

MURIEL.    Yes. 

MANNERING.     Three  thousand. 

MURIEL.  Three  thousand  pounds.  Walter, 
Walter,  how  could  you  do  it  ? 

MANNERING.  I  don't  know.  Because  I've  been  a 
selfish  brute  and  not  fit  to  be  a  brother  of  yours. 
(turns  away  to  L.) 

MURIEL.  Something  must  be  done.  There's  no 
time  to  be  lost.  I  must  do  something. 

MANNERING.  (turns  to  her)  Muriel — dearest — 
you're  to  do  nothing.  You  couldn't  raise  the  money, 
and  I  won't  have  you  try.  I'm  not  worth  it. 

MURIEL.  (up~R.c.)  It  isn't  that.  It's  a  question 
of  what  is  right — what  is  best  to  be  done,  (down  R.) 

(Enter  MAJOR  BINGHAM,  L.  up  c.) 

BINGHAM.  (up  c.)  Halloa  !  Halloa  !  the  desert- 
ers !  A  perfect  night — one  of  a  hundred  in  this  allu- 
vial country,  and  yet  you  waste  it  indoors.  To  say 
nothing  of  the  camp  fire. 

MURIEL.     (R.)    Yes,  Walter  and  I— 

MANNERING.  (L.)  I've  seen  so  little  of  Muriel 
lately,  and  I — 

MURIEL.  Walter,  I  want  to  speak  to  Major  Bing- 
ham  a  moment. 

BINGHAM.  (up  c.)  Yes,  of  course  you  do.  So 
retire,  Walter,  as  if  the  enemy  were  in  sight,  (goes  to 
fire) 

(MANNERING  crosses  c.  to  up  R.  c.,  gets  sword  and  cap, 
then  turns  and  gazes  at  MURIEL.) 


ACT  II.]  SECOND  IN   COMMAND.  77 

Brothers  are  all  very  well  in  broad  daylight,  but  when 
the  lamps  are  lit  and  the  moon  is  up — you  want  some- 
thing more.  Well — what  are  you  staring  at  ?  (turns 
and  looks  into  fire) 

MANNERING.  Oh,  nothing  !  (to  MURIEL)  Muriel, 
remember  what  I  told  you  ;  you're  to  do  nothing. 

(Exit  L.  c.) 

BINGHAM.  There  !  Our  first  moment  alone  to- 
night, (comes  c.)  Muriel !  I'm  sorry — I  keep  for- 
getting that  you  don't  feel  yet  just  as  I  do ;  I'm  so 
tactless. 

(MURIEL  goes  doivn  to  R.,  then  returns  and  sits  L.  of 

piano.     BINGHAM  gets  chair  from  c.  and  places  it 

L.  of  her.) 

By  the  way,  we've  a  tremendous  ceremony  to  go 
through.  I've — I've  got  the  ring. 

MURIEL.     The  ring  ? 

BINGHAM.  (sits  L.  of  her)  Yes,  the  engagement 
ring,  (takes  ring  from  vest  pocket)  It  came  by  post 
to-night.  Here  it  is.  There — isn't  it  a  beauty. 
A  ruby  with  a  diamond  on  either  side.  The  ruby 
stands  for  my  heart,  and  it's  held  fast  by  one  pure 
diamond  for  the  beauty  of  your  soul,  and  by  the  other 
for  the  beauty  of  yourself.  It's  my  own  idea. 
There  !  put  it  on.  Doesn't  it  sparkle  wonderfully  ? 

MURIEL.    Does  it  ?     (not  looking) 

BINGHAM.  Yes.  Look !  The  stones  seem  to 
flash  every  colour. 

MURIEL,     (looks)    Yes ;  I  see, 


78  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  [ACT  II. 

BINGHAM.  So  there  it  is,  with  all  the  love  I  have 
to  give  you,  and  you'll  never  know,  dearest,  how 
much  that  is. 

MURIEL.    Kit — I — I  can't. 

BINGHAM.  Muriel !  Why,  what  a  wretched  lover 
I  am.  Of  course — I  must  put  it  on.  I  forgot  that. 
Let's  see,  which  is  the  finger  ?  Does  it  matter  ? 

MURIEL.    Kit — I  can't — I  can't  wear  it. 

BINGHAM.    Muriel ! 

MURIEL.  I  don't  know  what  to  say.  I  don't  even 
feel  that  I  can  think.  Eat,  I  want  to  ask  you — for 
my 

BINGHAM.    My  darling  !  for  what  ? 

MURIEL.    My  freedom. 

BINGHAM.  I — I  don't  think  I — quite  understand — 
I'm  stupid  and  dense,  Muriel.  I'm  quite  sure  it's 
all  right — that  it  means — only  something  that  I  ought 
to  see  and  don't. 

MURIEL.  Kit,  I  had  no  right  to  say  I  would  be 
your  wife.  I — I  didn't  feel — things  have  happened. 
I've  realized — that  I  was  wrong  to —  (cries) 

BINGHAM.  Yes  !  Ah,  don't,  don't,  dear.  I  know 
now — I  see  all  at  once — how  it's  hurting  you  to  say  it 
— but  I'm  sure — you're  right. 

MURIEL.    Kit ! 

BINGHAM.  I  know,  dear.  I  know  what  it  means. 
It  isn't  right — it  isn't  possible — that  you  should  give 
your  life  to  me.  I  was  mad  to  dream  of  it.  - 

MURIEL.  It  was  all  my  fault.  And  now — it  comes 
to  you, 


ACT  II.]  SECOND  IN   COMMAND.  79 

BINGHAM.  No,  no  !  It  was  I  who  was  cruel. 
But — Muriel — it  was  a  blindness,  somehow,  as  if  the 
sun  had  got  into  my  eyes,  and  I  could  only  see  and 
feel  for  myself.  And  all  you  want  to  tell  me — there, 
let  me  take  your  hand — you  look  white  and  scared — 
is  that — everything's  over. 

MURIEL,     (withdraws  her  hand)    Yes. 

BINGHAM.    Well,  then,  it's  over. 

(Shouting  heard  in  distance  for  a  few  seconds — stops 

at  bell.    MURIEL  rises,  places  her  hand  on  BINGHAM'S 

shoulder.) 

It  was  almost  bound  to  happen.     I  saw  a  magpie  to- 
day. 

MURIEL,     (mechanically)    A  magpie  ? 

BINGHAM.  Yes.  Don't  bother  about  it,  it's 
nothing.  Only  they  say  it  means  bad  luck. 

(Shouting  repeated,  "  Where's  the  Major  ?  "  etc.    A 

man  heard  running  until  BARKER  speaks  off.) 

BARKER,     (off    L.)    Major !    Major    Bingham ! 

(Enter  BARKER.) 

I  say,  Major,  all  the  men  are  shouting  on  you  for  a 
song. 

BINGHAM.    Are  they? 

BARKER.     Yes,  yelling.    So  come  along. 

(Shouting  stops.) 

BINGHAM.    I  couldn't,  Barker.    I  couldn't  possi- 
bly.    I'm  not  in  tune  to-night. 
BARKER,    Oh,  that's  all  right.    As  a  matter  of 


80  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [ACT  II. 

fact,  vocally  you  very  seldom  are.  You  must  sing, 
mustn't  he,  Miss  Mannering  ? 

MURIEL.  No,  no,  don't  ask  him  to.  He  doesn't 
want  to. 

BINGHAM.     There  you  are.     I  don't  want  to. 

BARKER,  (goes  to  down  L.)  But  he  must,  you 
know.  The  men  will  mutiny  if  he  doesn't,  (comes 
c.)  He  sings  beautifully.  All  sorts  of  cheery  songs 
— "  The  Heart  bowed  down,"  "  When  other  lips,"  and 
so  on.  The  Tommies  simply  worship  him.  Besides, 
Major,  you  promised,  (goes  up  L.  c.) 

BINGHAM.    Did  I  ? 

BARKER.  Of  course  you  did,  so  come  along,  (up 
to  L.  of  window) 

BINGHAM.     Then  perhaps  I'd  better. 

MURIEL,  (comes  to  him — aside)  It  will  make 
things  seem  as  if — as  if  nothing  had  happened. 

BINGHAM.  Would  it  ?  Yes,  perhaps  it  would. 
All  right,  Barker,  I'll  sing,  (goes  to  R.  of  ivindow) 

BINGHAM.  (to  MURIEL)  I'd  rather  you  didn't 
listen. 

MURIEL.    No,  I'll  stay  here. 

BINGHAM.  Thank  you.  I  don't  sing  really  well, 
you  know.  I — I  get  out  of  tune.  Come  along  then, 
Barker,  (holds  BARKER  by  the  arms)  But  I  will  not 
sing  "  The  Heart  bowed  down." 

BARKER.     (R.  c.)    All  right.    Anything  you  like. 

BINGHAM.  (L.  c.)  I'll  sing  something  cheerful, 
something  that  goes  with  a  swing.  I — no,  no,  Barker, 
I  can't — I  really  can't,  (goes  to  table  by  seat  L.  c., 


ACT  II.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  81 

picks  up  cigar  cutter  and  examines  it  to  conceal  his 
emotion)  You  don't  know  what  you're  asking. 

BARKER,     (putting  cap  on)     Oh,  rot !     Come  along  ! 

BINGHAM.  Well,  if  I  must — I  must.  But  I  insist 
on  singing  something  rousing — something  jolly. 

BARKER.     Yes,  of  course,  anything  you — 

(Exeunt  BINGHAM  and  BARKER  off  L.  c.) 
MURIEL,     (pause,  she  comes  up  to  c.)    Poor  Kit ! 
(goes  to  fireplace)    Poor  Kit ! 

(Shouting  very  loud,  "  Here's  the  Major"  etc.) 
(Enter  COLONEL  ANSTRUTHER  up  R.) 

ANSTRUTHER.    Still  here,  Miss  Mannering. 
MURIEL.     Yes  ;  I've  been  thinking. 
ANSTRUTHER.    Wouldn't  you  rather  be  with  the 
others  ? 
MURIEL.    No,  I'd  rather  wait  here. 

(Shouting  stops.) 

ANSTRUTHER.  I'm  afraid  it's  my  fault— that  your 
evening — 

MURIEL.    No,  no — don't  say  that — it  isn't  your 

fault 

(Song  starts,  "  Love's  Old  Sweet  Song.") 

ANSTRUTHER.  I  wish  you'd — I  don't  know  how  to 
say  it.  I  was  never  good  at  finding  the  right  words, 
but  you're  in  trouble.  Won't  you  at  least  make  a 
friend  of  me  ? 

MURIEL.  Don't — don't  be  kind  to  me.  I  can't 
bear  it. 


82  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [ ACT  II. 

ANSTRUTHER.  I  only  want  to  help  you.  Some- 
how I  feel  that  the  trouble  lies  in  the  words  you  said 
to  me  :  "  I  am  not  free." 

MURIEL.     I — I  thought  it  was  true. 

ANSTRUTHER.  Thought !  Why,  then,  surely  that 
means 

MURIEL.     Ah,  don't.     I — I  never  meant  to  say  it. 

ANSTRUTHER.  No,  but  a  lover's  ears  are  keen — 
Muriel,  everything  is  whispering  to  me  that  we  are 
being  drawn  to  each  other. 

(MURIEL  makes  a  movement  of  anguish.) 

I  don't  ask  you  to  tell  me  anything,  but  somehow  I 
know.  When  first  I  spoke  to  you  to-night,  you 
thought — you  believed — you  weren't  free. 

MURIEL.    Yes. 

ANSTRUTHER.    And  now— 

MURIEL.    Now—     (turns  slowly  to  him)    if— 

ANSTRUTHER.  If !  (taking  her  in  his  arms) 
Muriel,  my  darling,  (kisses  her  hair)  And  it  honestly 
means  happiness  to  you  as  well  as  to  me  ? 

MURIEL.  Yes,  a  great  happiness,  the  happiness 
I've  prayed  for,  the  happiness  I've  pictured  with 
closed  eyes  for  fear  the  sight  of  the  outer  world  would 
drive  it  away. 

ANSTRUTHER.  My — my  wife,  (kisses  her,  his  arm 
round  her  waist.) 

(They  go  up.     Singing  swells.) 

MURIEL,  (stops  in  window)  Listen.  The  men 
are  singing  "  Love's  Old  Sweet  Song." 


ACT  II.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  83 

ANSTRUTHER.  Perhaps  they've  guessed  our  secret. 
(kisses  her  hands) 

(They  move  up  again.) 

MURIEL.  Here  comes  Walter  across  the  lawn. 
Shall  we  tell  him  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  Yes,  why  not  ?  (goes  down  L.  a 
little) 

MURIEL.  Yes,  we'll  tell  him.  (comes  to  COLONEL) 
Oh,  Miles,  there's  one  thing  I — I  want  to  ask  you. 
If  Walter  were  ever  in  great  trouble,  you'd  help  him, 
wouldn't  you  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  (surprised)  Why — of  course,  dar- 
ling, (recovered,  takes  her  hands)  But  to-night  we 
won't  talk  of  trouble,  only  of  the  great  happiness  that 
has  come  to  us. 

(Singing  swells.) 
(Enter  MANNERING,  L.  c.    MURIEL  goes  to  desk  L.) 

MANNERING.  (downR.  c.)  I  don't  know  whether 
you  know  it,  Muriel,  but  every  one's  asking  where 
you  are. 

MURIEL,     (c.)    Well,  dear — here  I  am. 

MANNERING.    Why  don't  you  listen  to  the  songs  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  (L.  c.)  To  tell  you  the  truth,  we've 
had  a  duet  in  here. 

MANNERING.    A  duet  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  Yes,  a  love  duet.  And  it  went 
admirably,  didn't  it,  Muriel  ? 

MURIEL.    Walter — can't  you  guess  ? 


84  SECOND   IN  COMMAND.  [Acr  IT. 

MANNERING.  Why — surely,  surely,  you  don't 
mean  that 

ANSTRUTHER.  Why,  what  else  could  it  mean,  my 
brother-in-law  elect  ? 

(Singing  ceases,   loud  applause  and  cheering  heard, 
"Bravo  !    Encore  I    Major  !  "  etc.) 

MANNERING.     Your  brother-in-law  ?     Muriel 

MURIEL.    Yes ! 

MANNERING.  It  isn't  possible,  (goes  to  down  R.) 
No,  no — I  won't  believe  it.  (turns  to  them)  Muriel, 
I  told  you  to-night 

MURIEL.    Walter  !     (goes  to  ANSTRUTHER) 

ANSTRUTHER.  You've  an  odd  way  of  congratulat- 
ing us ! 

(Stop  applause.) 

MANNERING.  I  didn't  mean  that.  It's  all  so 
sudden — so  utterly  unexpected.  You  don't  give 
one  time  to  think. 

ANSTRUTHER.  (takes  her  hand)  We  didn't  give 
each  other  time  to  think.  It  just  happened,  (goes  up 
to  fire) 

MURIEL,  (crosses  to  WALTER,  watching  ANSTRUTHER 
as  he  goes  up,  and  then  speaks  with  deep  meaning) 
And  now  you're  to  wish  us  joy. 

MANNERING.    Yes,  I — I  do  that,  of  course. 

ANSTRUTHER.  One  would  think  we  had  told  you 
some  appalling  news. 

MURIEL,  (going  to  ANSTRUTHER)  No,  no,  he's 
surprised,  that's  all. 


ACT  II.]  SECOND  IN   COMMAND.  85 

(Enter  MAJOR  BINGHAM,  L.  c.,  he  goes  to  top  end  of 
piano.) 

BINGHAM.     I've  done  it.    I've  been  singing. 

ANSTRUTHER.  Capital,  Kit.  What  did  you  give 
them  ? 

(MURIEL   looks   compassionately   at   BINGHAM.) 

BINGHAM.  (takes  up  photo  frame)  I  sang  "  Love's 
Old  Sweet  Song."  I'd  rather  have  sung,  "  Let  me 
like  a  Soldier  fall,"  but  it's  a  little  unsoldierly  to  start 
off  with  a  request  to  be  allowed  to  fall. 

ANSTRUTHER.     Kit,  your  spirits  are  irrepressible. 

BINGHAM.  Are  they?  Do  I  convey  the  idea  of 
being  cheery  ? 

(MURIEL  goes  up  to  BINGHAM.    ANSTRUTHER  goes 
to  desk,  places  his  cheque-book  under  the  blotting-pad.) 

MURIEL,  (up  R.  c.)  You  convey  the  idea  of  being 
as  good  as  gold. 

(Exit  off  L.  c.) 

ANSTRUTHER.  (coming  to  BINGHAM,  places  his 
hands  on  his  shoulders)  As  good  as  gold,  (in  a  low 
voice)  Has  he  got  your  cheque  ? 

BINGHAM.  (also  in  a  low  voice)  No,  not  yet.  I've 
written  it  out,  but  I  haven't  had  a  chance  to  give  it 
to  him. 

ANSTRUTHER.  (as  before)  You  might  give  it  now. 
I'll  get  out  of  the  way. 

BINGHAM.     (as  before)    Yes. 

(Exit  ANSTRUTHER  off  L.  c.) 


86  SECOND   IN  COMMAND.  [Acr  II. 

MANNERING.     Oh,  it's  horrible — awful ! 

BINGHAM.     What's  horrible,  eh  ? 

MANNERING.     Binks  !     I   thought   you'd   gone. 

BINGHAM.  But  you're  right.  Getting  up  to  the 
neck  in  debt  is  horrible.  What  the  devil  d'you  mean 
by  it  ?  (moves  chair  from  L.  of  piano  chair  R.  to 
above  it) 

MANNERING.     That's  my  business,  Major. 

BINGHAM.  Is  it  ?  I  should  have  thought  it  was 
your  creditors'. 

MANNERING.    Well !    Are  you  a  creditor  ? 

BINGHAM.    No,  but  I  hope  to  be. 

MANNERING.    Eeally  ?    In  what  capacity  ? 

BINGHAM.     I  want  to  lend  you  money. 

MANNERING.     You — want  to  lend  me — money  ? 

BINGHAM.     Yes,  surprising,  isn't  it  ? 

MANNERING.    I'm  afraid  your  sense  of  humour — 
(looks  away  to  R.) 

BINGHAM.  Humour  !  D'you  imagine  I'm  trying 
to  be  funny  ?  Good  heavens,  man,  if  you  only  knew. 
Now,  look  here,  d'you  see  this  cheque.  Take  it,  man. 
Look  at  it !  It  won't  bite  you. 

MANNERING.  (looks  at  BINGHAM,  then  at  cheque) 
What !  Three  thousand  pounds  payable  to  me  ! 

BINGHAM.    Is  it  enough  ? 

MANNERING.  It  would  be,  of  course — if  it  were 
genuine,  and  if  I  could  take  it. 

BINGHAM.  Genuine !  Of  course  it's  genuine. 
I'm  not  an  Exeter  Hall  stockbroker.  You've  got  to 
take  it.  For  the  credit  of  the  regiment.  We  can't 


ACT  II.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  87 

let  you  go  a  mucker.  I  charge  two  per  cent. — perhaps 
three.  I  can't  let  you  have  it  for  nothing.  It's  not 
a  bit  of  good  your  asking. 

MANNERING.  But,  Major,  you  always  said  you 
hadn't  a  sou  ? 

BINGHAM.  Oh !  Oh,  yes,  I  know.  But  Aunt 
Geraldine  died  last  week,  poor  soul,  (fidgets  with 
cheque) 

MANNERING.    What  ? 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  sad  case,  dropsy — she  became 
enormous.  It  was  a  great  blow,  but  a  happy  release. 

MANNERING.  But  weren't  you  at  the  Gunner's 
Ball  last  night  ? 

BINGHAM.  Oh  ?  I  at  the  Gun — oh,  yes — I  was. 
You  see  she  was  a  distant  aunt,  (a  step  to  c.)  twice 
removed — once  by  marriage  (a  step  to  L.  c.)  once  by 
divorce.  Walter,  old  fellow,  take  the  money,  and 
don't  argue.  I  can't  go  on  like  this.  I  can't  keep  it 
up — I'm  out  of  sorts,  out  of  spirits  and — wretched. 

MANNERING.    And  you  really  mean  it  for  me  ? 

(Song  and  chorus  heard  in  distance,  "  Say  au  revoir") 

BINGHAM.    Yes,  honour  bright. 

MANNERING.  Then  I  haven't  any  words  to  thank 
you  with.  It's  an  act  of  generosity — of  charity,  that 
I  can't  conceive.  It  staggers  me. 

BINGHAM.    Don't  you  worry.    You  get  out  of  debt. 

MANNERING.  I'm  ashamed  to  accept  it.  But  it 
means  so  much — not  only  to  me,  but  to  Muriel 

BINGHAM.     To  her? 


88  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [ ACT  II. 

MANNERING.  Yes,  I  can't  explain,  but  it's  true. 
And  I  take  it,  Major,  more  for  her  sake  than  for  mine. 
But  how  to  thank  you — 

BINGHAM.     It's  all  right,  Walter,  don't  try. 

MANNERING.     Binks !     (offers   his   hand) 

BINGHAM.  (shakes  hands)  Jolly  night,  isn't  it  ? 
(goes  up  and  stirs  fire) 

(Enter  MEDENHAM  with  tray,  comes  to  up  L.  c.) 

Ah  !  just  in  time.  The  strain  is  too  great.  But 
Providence  provides  a  lubricant  for  the  wheel  of 
destiny. 

(Enter  ANSTRUTHER  through  window  up  L.) 
ANSTRUTHER.    Ah  !  that's  all  right.     I  came  to  see 
that  you'd  got  everything.     Let's  see.     Yes,  cigars, 
cigarettes,  whisky  and  soda.     All  right,  Medenham, 
you  can  go.     Got  all  you  want,  Walter  ? 

(Exit  MEDENHAM,  R.) 

MANNERING.  Yes,  thank  you,  sir.  (goes  down  to 
L.  with  glass  of  whisky  and  soda) 

ANSTRUTHER.  Now  then,  I'm  going  to  give  you  a 
toast.  Something  (pours  out)  very  wonderful  has 
happened  to-night,  and  we're  going  to  pour  out  a 
libation  at  the  altar  of  Hymen. 

BINGHAM.     (crosses  to  R.)    Did  you  say  Hymen  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  (holds  up  his  glass)  Yes ;  here's 
to  the  future  Mrs.  Anstruther. 

(Singing  ceases.) 
MANNERING.     (anxiously)     One  moment,  Colonel. 


ACT  II.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  89 

(goes  up  to  table  L.  c.,  places  his  glass  on  it)  May — may 
I  speak  to  you  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.     Yes,  of  course,  what  is  it  ? 

MANNERING.  There's  something  I  must  tell  you — 
no,  please,  Major,  don't  go.  It  concerns  you  as  well, 
and  you  ought  to  hear.  I — I  was — it's  difficult. 
(goes  down  L.) 

ANSTRUTHER.  Walter,  what — what  are  you  driving 
at? 

MANNERING.  Till  a  moment  ago,  sir,  I  believed  I 
should  have  to  send  in  my  papers  to-morrow  and  give 
up  soldiering.  It  was  on  account  of  money  matters. 
To-night  I  must  have  been  mad — I  told  Muriel  that 
my  only  chance  of  salvation  lay  in  her  marriage  with 
a  rich  man.  And  I —  -  (faces  up  L.)  I'll  make  a 
clean  breast  of  it — I  was  cad  enough  to  suggest  it  to 
her.  Then  I  saw  what  an  awful — brutal  thing  I'd  done, 
and  I  begged  her  to  forget  that  I  had  ever  dreamt  of 
it  Conceive  my  horror  when  you  told  me  the  very 
thing  I  dreaded  had  come  about. 

ANSTRUTHER.  I  can  hardly  believe  that  you  realize 
what  you're  saying  now. 

MANNERING.  It's  true,  sir.  (turns  away)  I  know 
how  vilely  I've  behaved.  I  know  I'll  have  to  ex- 
change, that  I'm  not  fit  to  serve  in  your  own  regiment. 

ANSTRUTHER.  It's  not  a  question  of  that,  (places 
glass  on  tray)  It's  what  you  say  about  your  sister. 
(doivn  L.  c.)  You  mean  that  she,  simply  for  your 
ends,  was  ready  to  become  my  wife.  Is  that  what 
you  ask  me  to  believe  ? 


90  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  [ACT  II. 

MANNERING.    Yes,  indeed,  sir,  it's  true. 
(BiNGHAM  turns  to  down  R.) 

And  I'm  only  speaking  now  to  save  what  might  be  a 
life  of  wretchedness  for  both  of  you.  When  I  first 
spoke  to  her  of  it,  she  was  horrified.  She  said  the 
bare  idea  was  horrible — revolting. 

ANSTRUTHER.  She  used  the  words  horrible — 
revolting  ? 

MANNERING.  Yes,  sir.  Those  were  her  very 
words. 

ANSTRUTHER.  And,  with  me,  she  was  only  acting 
a  part  ? 

MANNERING.  Yes,  sir.  Ah  !  don't  you  see.  You 
don't  know  what  she'd  do  or  sacrifice  for  me,  utterly 
worthless  as  I  am.  And  now,  thanks  to  an  act  of 
generosity  that  nothing  on  earth  can  ever  repay— 

( BINGHAM  moves  a  step  and  back  uneasily.) 

the  very  reason  of  her  sacrifice  has  ceased  to  exist. 

ANSTRUTHER.     I  don't  understand  you. 

MANNERING.  Major  Bingham  has  lent  me  money. 
More  even  than  is  necessary. 

BINGHAM.  (turns  to  them)  Look  here,  I  really 
can't  go  on  posing  like  this.  The  very  money  you 
speak  of 

ANSTRUTHER.  Shows,  Kit,  that  you  have  the 
credit  of  the  regiment  at  heart,  and  I'm  glad  to  hear 
of  what  you've  done. 

BINGHAM.    But,  Colonel 


ACT  II.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  91 

ANSTRUTHER.  Kit !  But  even  now,  I'm  not  sure 
I'm  justified  in  accepting  all  you've  told  me. 

MANNERING  (a  step  to  c.)  It's  the  truth,  sir.  She 
had  bound  herself  to  our  mother  to — to  look  to  me, 
to  my  welfare,  and — I — I — can't  go  on.  I  can't  tell 
you  more,  (turns  to  L.,  faces  up  stage) 

BINGHAM.     In  a  way,  you  know,  I  can. 

ANSTRUTHER.    You  ? 

BINGHAM.  Yes  ;  I  gave  a  promise  not  to  speak  of 
a  certain  arrangement  that  she  and  I  had  come  to. 
But  now,  if  it  helps  you  to  arrive  at  a  conclusion, 
and  above  all,  if  it  saves  her  from  unhappiness,  then 
I  think  I  ought  to  speak. 

ANSTRUTHER.    Well  ? 

BINGHAM.  Till  to-night,  Colonel,  Miss  Mannering 
and  I  were  engaged. 

ANSTRUTHER.    What  ? 

MANNERING.  Muriel  told  me  so  herself.  Of  course 
I'd  no  idea  of  that  when  I  suggested — what  I  did. 

BINGHAM.  It  happened  a  week  ago,  but  to-night 
she  broke  it  off.  I  couldn't  understand  it  at  the 
time,  but  now  I  begin  to  see. 

ANSTRUTHER.  I  remember  now,  she  said  she 
wasn't  free.  Not  free !  That  means  you — you. 
And  she  honestly  loves  you  ? 

(BINGHAM  flinches.) 

MANNERING.  She  told  me  so  herself,  only  to-night. 
(ANSTRUTHER  motions  MANNERING  to  be  silent,  then 


92  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [ACT  II. 

he  goes  to  BINGHAM,  places  his  hand  on  his  shoul- 
der.) 

ANSTRUTHER.     You're  quite  sure  of  that  ? 

BINGHAM.  Eh,  what  ?  What  are  you  talking 
about  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  Kit,  I  know  you're  trying  to  let 
me  down  gently,  (removes  his  hand)  But  all's  fair 
in  love  and  war,  and  if  I've  lost — well,  I've  lost. 
(hand  on  shoulder)  She  really  loves  you  ? 

BINGHAM.  All's  fair — oh  !  you  asked  me  that  ? 
Yes.  Oh,  yes,  you  see — she  even  told  Walter. 
(looks  at  ANSTRUTHER)  The  thing  is,  what's  to  be 
done  ?  (turns  away  to  R.) 

ANSTRUTHER.  I'll  arrange  it  somehow.  It's  like 
a  bird  being  caught  in  a  net ;  the  wings  must  be  set 
free  gently.  One  thing  is  certain,  (to  both)  She 
must  be  spared  the  knowledge  of  what  has  passed 
between  us.  That  she  must  never  know. 

BINGHAM.    Yes  !    But  how  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  I  can't  tell  you  yet,  but  before  we 
sail  she'll  be  free,  (going  up  c.)  A  story  of  entangle- 
ment with  some  other  woman  would  do  ;  I'll  break 
it  off  somehow,  (at  fireplace)  That  you  must  leave 
to  me. 

(Enter  MURIEL,  L.  c.  When  she  enters,  ANSTRUTHER 
turns  round  to  her.  MANNERING  stands  up.  BING- 
HAM places  his  glass  on  piano,  then  stands  facing 
to  R.) 

MURIEL.    The  concert's  nearly  over.    Lady  Har- 


ACT  II.]  SECOND   IN  COMMAND.  93 

burgh  and  the  others  are  coming  up.  How  solemn 
you  all  look  !  I  believe  you're  glad  we're  going  and 
longing  to  smoke  pipes.  I  feel  as  if  I'd  come  out  of 
summer  into  mid-winter. 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  it's  a  draughty  room.  And  the 
fire  is  almost  out. 

(Chorus  singing  "  Wrap  me  up  in  my  old  stable 
jacket "  in  distance.) 

MURIEL,  (to  ANSTRUTHER)  Miles — surely — surely 
Major  Bingham  doesn't  know. 

ANSTRUTHER.    Yes,  he's  found  it  out. 

MURIEL.    Who  told  him  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.    I  did. 

MURIEL.    Miles,  how  could  you  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.    Why  shouldn't  he  know  ? 

MURIEL.  Because — I'll  tell  you  later,  (looks  at 
MANNERING)  I  must  speak  to  him.  Major  Bingham. 
(in  low  voice)  Kit,  I  wanted  to  break — 

BINGHAM.  Eh?  What!  Oh,  that's  all  right. 
Awfully  jolly  evening,  isn't  it  ?  (goes  up  R.  of  piano 
to  R.  c.  above  it.) 

(Chatter  heard  off  L.  Enter  LADY  HARBURGH,  fol- 
lowed by  NOR  AH,  HILDEBRAND  and  BARKER.  MAN- 
NERING crosses  to  R.  and  exits.) 

LADY  HARBURGH.  (by  ANSTRUTHER  up  L.  c.) 
My  dear  Colonel  Anstruther,  you've  given  us  the 
most  delightful  evening,  so  idyllic,  so  pastoral. 

NORAH.  (seated  L.  of  piano)  It's  been  perfectly 
heavenly.  Oh  !  Muriel,  who  wouldn't  be  a  soldier  ? 


94  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [Ac-rll. 

HILDEBRAND.     (up  L.  c.  back  of  settee)     I,  for  one. 
(BARKER  by  NORAH.) 

NORAH.     No,  you  never  would.     Look  at  yourself. 
HILDEBRAND.    I  am  looking  at  Mr.  Barker. 

(BARKER  retires  to  up  R.) 

ANSTRUTHER.    I'm  glad  you  enjoyed  the  camp  fire. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Ah !  but  you  missed  Major 
Bingham's  song.  And  he  sang  it  so  originally.  I'd 
never  heard  "  Love's  old  sweet  song  "  given  humor- 
ously before. 

BINGHAM.     (comes  c.)    Did  it  sound  funny  ? 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Oh,  immensely !  But  you 
ought  to  insist  on  the  man  at  the  piano  changing 
key  when  you  do. 

(BINGHAM  goes  to  R.) 

Now,  come  along,  children.     I  won't  keep  the  horses 
waiting.     So  good-night,  Colonel  Anstruther. 

ANSTRUTHER.    Good-night. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  You'll  see  us  to  the  carriage, 
won't  you,  Major  Bingham  ? 

BINGHAM.    Pleasure,  pleasure. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  It's  been  a  perfectly  charming 
experience. 

BINGHAM.    Yes,  awfully  jolly  evening,  isn't  it  ? 
(LADY  HARBURGH,  HILDEBRAND,  BARKER, 
NORAH  and  BINGHAM  exeunt.) 

MURIEL,     (comes  to  L.)    Good-night,  Miles. 

ANSTRUTHER.     Good-night,  good-bye. 


ACT  II.]  SECOND   IN  COMMAND.  95 

(A  bugle  sounds  "  Lights  out") 

MURIEL.    What  is  that  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  It's  lights  out.  The  last  call  of 
the  day. 

MURIEL.    The  last  call.    How  sad  it  sounds. 
ANSTRUTHER.     Yes,  everything  has  an  end. 
MURIEL.    Not  everything,  Miles. 
ANSTRUTHER.    No  ? 

(Enter  MAJOR   BINGHAM.    Seeing  them  he  goes  a 
little  R.,  and  stands  with  his  back  to  them.) 

BINGHAM.  Lady  Harburgh  says  they're  all  wait- 
ing. 

MURIEL.  I'm  coming,  (gives  ivrap  to  ANSTRU- 
THER ;  he  places  it  round  her)  Good-night,  Miles. 
(looks  up  in  his  face,  waiting  to  be  kissed) 

ANSTRUTHER.  (extends  his  hand,  coldly)  Good- 
bye. 

BINGHAM.  The  horses  have  been  standing  half 
an  hour. 

MURIEL.  I'm  coming,  (goes  up  c.)  Good-night, 
Kit. 

BINGHAM.     Good-night. 

(MURIEL  gives  her  hand  to  BINGHAM  ;  he  turns  and 
takes  it  as  if  to  kiss  her,  then  ends  quietly  saying 
"  Good-night.") 

(MURIEL  goes  slowly  out  to  L.  c.) 

(Bugle  repeats  "  Lights  out") 
Sloiv  curtain  on  second  part  of  bugle. 


ACT   III 

Piles  of  packing-cases  outside  each  window. 

Large  case  c.,  small  case  L.  of  it,  small  case  above  it. 

One  case  laid  on  top  of  another  to  make  them  rock,  B.  c. 

Packing-case  L.  c.,  two  cases  and  two  wooden  chairs  up  c. 

Two  tables  down  L.,  chair  R.  of  each. 

Straw  littered  about  stage ;    carpet  up. 

Hammer  and  nails — hammer  left  on  box  in  c.  by  Medenham, 

and  taken  away  by  Hartopp  after  entering  with  beer, 

sandwiches,  etc. 
Bugler  and  bugle  for  calls. 
Letter  from  Lady  Har burgh    for  Bingham  on    box  L.  c., 

handed  to  Bingham  by  Hartopp. 
Tray,  sandwiches,  beer,  etc.,  including  drinking  glasses  for 

two. 
Norah's  three  parcels — alarm  clock  in  box,  to  have  lever  for 

bell;  soldier's  pocket-book;  pocket  medicine  chest. 
Telegram  for  Anstruther's  entry. 
Chains  for  artillery  horses. 
Letter  (sealed)  Bingham  to  hand  to  Muriel. 


ACT  III. 

SCENE. — Ante-room  of  Officers'  Mess,  dismantled. 
TROOPERS  in  khaki  uniform  and  helmets  are  seen 
at  intervals  without,  engaged  inbaggage  fatigue,  etc. 

(As  curtain  rises,  HARTOPP  seated  on  case  c.,  also 
MEDENHAM,  hammering  nails  into  a  packing-case.) 

MEDENHAM.  (rises)  Thank  'Eaven,  that's  the 
last  bloomin'  nail  driven  'ome. 

HARTOPP.    Whew !    It's  'ot ! 

MEDENHAM.  It's  'otter  where  we're  bound  for. 
An'  no  four  half  to  keep  the  barometer  down. 

HARTOPP.  No,  nor  yet  a  bloomin'  female  to  be 
seen  for  a  'undred  miles  at  a  stretch. 

MEDENHAM.  So  ye'll  'ave  to  give  your  morals  a 
chance,  whether  ye  like  it  or  not. 

HARTOPP.  We'll  have  the  Chaplain  startin'  a 
flirtation  with  our  religious  emotions. 

MEDENHAM.  'Ere !  Where's  that  scrimshankin* 
fatigue  party  ? 

HARTOPP.    I  don't  know. 

MEDENHAM.    Hi !    Corporal ! 

HARTOPP.  They're  a  lazy  set  o'  swabs !  The 
"  Turn  Out  "  '11  go  in  half  an  hour's  time. 


100  SECOND  IN   COMMAND.  [Acrlll. 

MEDENHAM.    'Ere  ye  are  ! 

(Enter  CORPORAL  and  two  TROOPERS.) 

CORPORAL.    All  this  tack  ready  ? 

MEDENHAM.  Yes,  take  it  away  for  the  love  of  yer 
bloomin'  country. 

CORPORAL,     (down  R.  c.)    What,  all  of  it  ? 

HARTOPP.  (c.)  Only  the  tack  marked  South 
Africa ;  the  rest  stops  behind  to  be  stored.  You 
don't  want  fenders  and  carpets  in  action. 

CORPORAL.  Who  said  yer  did  !  (to  the  MEN  up 
stage)  Get  onto  it, lads,  (to  HARTOPP)  I'm  about 
fed  up  with  this  baggage  fatigue  ;  I've  been  at  it  six 
hours. 

HARTOPP.    Don't  you  like  it  ? 

CORPORAL.  Yes,  just  about  as  much  as  you  do  ; 
here,  have  you  a  bottle  of  beer  handy  ? 

HARTOPP.    Yes,  I  have. 

CORPORAL.  Then  fetch  it  here  ;  there's  a  bloomin' 
drought  in  my  throat. 

HARTOPP.  I  wish  I  could,  Corporal ;  but  I'm  a 
selfish  man  I  am,  and  I'm  keeping  it  for  myself. 

(Bugle  heard  in  distance  "  Fatigue  Call  "  ) 

CORPORAL.  Well,  that's  won  it.  You're  a  bloomin' 
fine  comrade  soldier,  you  are  !  Now  then,  lads,  off 
ye  get,  and  heave  the  tack  on  the  squadron  cart. 

(Exeunt  CORPORAL  and  MEN.) 
HARTOPP.    Just  see  if  them  sandwiches  is  ready 


ACT  III.]  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  101 

for  the  Colonel  and  the  Major.     They've  'ad  nothing 
since  breakfast. 
MEDENHAM.    Right ! 

(Two  OFFICERS  cross  from  R.  to  L.) 
HARTOPP.    And  ye'll  find  a  dozen  of  beer  below 
stairs,  'idden  under  a  blanket.     Ye  can  trust  Tommy 
Atkins  when  Vs  on  fatigue. 
MEDENHAM.    Right  you  are. 

(Exit.) 
HARTOPP.     (sings) 

Oh,  it's  Tommy,  Tommy  Atkins, 
You're  a  good  'un  'eart  and  'and, 
Ye're  a  credit  to  yer  country 
And  to  all  yer — 

(Enter  MAJOR  BINGHAM  up  R.) 
Beg  pardon  (draws  left  arm  across  forehead),  sir,  this 
note  came  for  you,  sir.     (gets  it  from  L.  c.  on  box) 

BINGHAM.  Thank  you ;  get  some  sandwiches — 
enough  for  two.  The  Colonel's  coming. 

HARTOPP.    Yes,  sir. 

(Exit.) 

BINGHAM.  (opening  letter)  From  Lady  Harburgh? 
Ah  !  I  thought  so.  "  The  girls  and  I  are  coming  to 
see  you  off,  to  say  good-bye."  I  call  that  rubbing  it 
in.  A  sort  of  valedictory  message  with  a  liniment 
of  tears,  (tears  up  letter) 

(Enter  COLONEL  ANSTRUTHER,  L.  c.) 
ANSTRUTHER.    Anything  to  eat,  Kit  ?     (down  L.  c.) 


102  SECOND   IN  COMMAND.  [Aci  III. 

BINGHAM.     (up  R.  c.)     It's  coming,  sir. 

ANSTRUTHER.  Have  you  heard  about  young  Car- 
stairs  ?  (takes  off  helmet) 

BINGHAM.    No ! 

ANSTRUTHER.  He's  enlisted  in  the  Imperial  Yeo- 
manry, (places  helmet  and  gloves  on  lower  end  of 
box  c.) 

(Enter  down  R.  MEDENHAM  with  tray,  sandwiches, 
beer,  etc.,  which  he  places  on  up  stage  end  of  box  c., 
and  takes  away  hammer  that  HARTOPP  has  left.) 

BINGHAM.    What ! 

ANSTRUTHER.  Yes ;  in  the  contingent  they've 
raised  locally.  They  marched  in  here  this  morning  ; 
J  saw  him. 

BINGHAM.    What !    In  barracks  ! 

(He  sits  on  box  R.  c.  above  box  c.) 

Trooper  the  Honourable  Hildebrand  Carstairs.  Ton 
my  word,  Colonel,  our  upper  classes  are  crowding  out 
the  lower  ones  even  at  their  own  jobs.  Army,  navy, 
stage,  trade — why,  I  believe  when  they  go  to  gaol 
they  insist  on  such  cells  as  have  a  southern  exposure. 
(both  drink,  then  take  up  sandwiches)  Miles,  if  you 
don't  mind  my  asking,  what  has  happened  about — 
Miss  Mannering  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  (places  sandwich  on  tray)  I've 
written  a  letter,  (throws  sandwich  on  plate)  She'll 
get  it  after  we've  gone.  I've  made  it  as  easy  for  her 
as  possible,  and  put  it  as  if  she  had  no  choice  but  to 
throw  me  over.  And  I've  told,  indeed,  ordered 


ACT  III.]  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  103 

young  Mannering  to  tell  her  that  I'm  a  man  who 
loves  one  day  and  rides  off  the  next. 

BINGHAM.  But  haven't  you  seen  her  since  that 
night? 

ANSTRUTHER.  (takes  up  glass)  No,  she  wrote 
and  asked  me  to,  but  I  pleaded  pressure  of  work. 
She  must  have  guessed  that  something's  wrong. 
(drinks) 

BINGHAM.  (places  sandwiches  on  plate)  There's 
always  the  off  chance,  you  know,  that  she  does  really 
love  you. 

ANSTRUTHER.  (places  glass  down)  No,  it  was  all 
for  him,  for  Walter.  She  was  acting  a  part  with  me. 
Besides,  my  dear  Kit,  you  were  everything  to  her 
till  I  and  my  guineas  came  upon  the  scene. 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  but  you've  only  my  word  for 
that,  (rises) 

ANSTRUTHER.  That's  enough  for  me.  (picks  up 
straw)  But  Walter  told  me  so  as  well. 

BINGHAM.  (puts  on  gloves)  Suppose  I  were  only 
an  ordinary  vulgar  liar,  that  I  couldn't  bear  to  lose 
her,  that  I  knew  she  didn't  care  for  me,  that  I  wil- 
fully threw  dust  in  your  eyes — what  then  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  Nothing.  I  shouldn't  believe  it, 
Kit.  If  we're  nothing  else,  at  least  we're  men  of 
honour. 

BINGHAM.    I  suppose  we  are — theoretically. 

ANSTRUTHER.  No,  Kit,  my  dear  boy.  I  lay 
awake  all  night  after  she'd  gone  and  tried  the  case 
as  if  before  a  jury  of  average  intelligence.  The  in- 


104  SECOND   IN  COMMAND.  [ACT  ITT. 

dictment  charged  her  on  two  counts.  First,  self- 
sacrifice  ;  second,  love.  The  jury  found  her  guilty 
of  the  first,  not  guilty  of  the  second.  I  fell  asleep  at 
5  a.m.,  and  was  up  on  parade  at  6.30.  A  summer 
morning,  and  yet  I  never  felt  the  air  so  chilly  in  my 
life. 

BINGHAM.  Miles,  it's  bad  luck,  (takes  off  gloves 
again) 

ANSTRUTHER.  (throws  straw  away)  It's  more  than 
that,  (takes  up  glass)  It's  the  awful  want  of  in- 
terest in  one's  ordinary  life,  in  work  and  duty ;  the 
utter  blankness  of  it  all.  It's  the  sudden  closing  of 
a  book  that  holds  the  only  secret  in  life,  (places 
glass  on  box) 

BINGHAM.  Don't  I  know  it.  I've  been  trying  to 
read  that  book  for  years. 

ANSTRUTHER.  (rises,  comes  to  BINGHAM)  Kit,  all 
this  gives  you  another  innings. 

BINGHAM.    Eh  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.    Don't  you  see  ? 

BINGHAM.  No,  no  !  She'd  never  come  back  to 
me.  She'd  be  ashamed  to,  and  I  to  ask  her.  So 
last  night  in  packing  up  I  took  my  poor  battered  old 
heart,  laid  it  in  lavender  of  memory,  folded  it  in 
brown  paper  of  experience,  and  locked  it  away  in 
the  archives  of  the  "  might  have  been."  Nothing 
matters  now. 

ANSTRUTHER.  No  ?  Not  even  going  on  service 
with  the  finest  regiment  a  man  could  command. 

BINGHAM.    It  dwarfs  things,  doesn't  it  ?    Love  is 


ACT  III.]  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  105 

so  ridiculously  primitive,  a  sort  of  prehistoric  peep. 
Miles,  there's  only  one  plan  of  action  I  can  recom- 
mend. Forget  it  all. 

ANSTRUTHER.    Yes. 

BINGHAM.  Love's  a  fever,  and  work  the  only 
possible  quinine.  Think  only  of  the  fighting  that's 
ahead  of  us. 

ANSTRUTHER.    Right ! 

BINGHAM.    And  nothing  else  ! 

ANSTRUTHER.    Nothing  else  ! 

BINGHAM.    She's  coming  to  say  good-bye. 

ANSTRUTHER.    What,  here  ? 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  dear,  good  woman !  Oh,  it's 
awful,  isn't  it  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  Kit,  we're  scarcely  forgetting. 
(goes  up  to  fireplace) 

BINGHAM.  No  ;  I'm  not  sure  that  after  all  there 
isn't  a  sort  of  maddening  comfort  in  remembering. 
(goes  down  R.) 

(Enter  up  R.,  NORAH  with  three  parcels.) 

NORAH.  Please,  Colonel  Anstruther,  may  I  come 
in  ?  (comes  down  R.  c.) 

ANSTRUTHER.  Miss  Vining.  (comes  down  L.  c.) 
Yes,  of  course.  Come  to  say  good-bye  ? 

NORAH.  (shakes  hands  with  ANSTRUTHER  and 
BINGHAM)  Yes ;  Aunt  Agatha  and  Muriel  are 
trying  to  find  Hildebrand.  You  know  it's  all  my 
fault. 

BINGHAM.    (R.)    What  is  ? 


106  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  [ACT  III. 

NORAH.  (R.  c.)  Hildebrand's  joining  the  Yeo- 
manry. 

ANSTRUTHER.    (L.  c.)    Is  it  ? 

NORAH.  Yes,  I  made  him  promise  to  be  quite 
teetotal  till  he  got  an  appointment  of  some  sort. 
Well,  the  very  next  morning  he  left  us,  saying  he 
was  off  for  two  days'  shooting.  And  only  this  morn- 
ing we  heard  what  he'd  done. 

BINGHAM.  But  he  kept  his  promise  ?  About  not 
drinking  ? 

NORAH.  Oh,  yes  ;  Hildebrand's  frightfully  hon- 
ourable, even  in  the  hottest  weather. 

ANSTRUTHER.  Oh  !  Even  in  the  hottest  weather. 
(goes  up  R.  to  window)  I'll  send  for  him.  He's  pro- 
bably hard  at  work  at  the  Goose-step  ! 

NORAH.  (c.)  That  would  be  good  of  you.  Oh, 
please,  just  before  you  go,  I  want  to  give  you  this  as 
a  talisman. 

(BINGHAM  retires  a  little  up  R.) 

ANSTRUTHER.  That's  really  very  kind.  What  is 
it  ?  (comes  down  R.  c.) 

NORAH.  An  alarm  clock.  I  thought  it  would  be 
useful  in  camp,  for  getting  up  at  night  with,  when 
you  expect  the  enemy. 

ANSTRUTHER.  My  dear  Miss  Vining,  what  a  bril- 
liant idea  !  I'll  have  it  packed  at  once.  It  is  good 
of  you.  (goes  up  to  window  R.) 

(Alarm  bell  rings.    Both  men  laugh.) 
(Exit  ANSTRUTHER.) 


ACT  III.]  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  107 

NORAH.  Thank  you.  (goes  to  L.  c.)  And  this  is 
for  you,  Major  Bingham. 

BINGHAM.  (comes  c.)  Really  for  me  ?  Now,  what 
is  it  ?  (opens  it) 

NOEAH.  Yes,  it's  the  soldier's  pocket-book.  I 
don't  know  why  it's  so  large.  But  if  you  find  your- 
self in  danger  during  action,  you've  only  got  to  turn 
to  Chapter  Five,  and  you'll  see  what  to  do. 

BINGHAM.  My  dear  Norah,  how  awfully  good  of 
you ;  you've  probably  saved  my  life,  (shakes  Tier 
hands) 

(Enter  HILDEBRAND  up  R.) 

NORAH.  Oh,  look,  (goes  up  R.  to  R.  c.)  Here's 
Hildebrand  ;  isn't  it  awful  ? 

(HILDEBRAND  pushes  her  away  gently  but  firmly.) 

NORAH.     (up  R.  c.)    Hildebrand  ! 

BINGHAM.     (c.)    Well,  Carstairs. 

HILDEBRAND.  (extends  his  right  hand,  saying) 
How  d'ye  do  ?  (then  salutes  again  with  his  left  hand. 
R.,  to  NORAH)  Be  good  enough  to  remember  what  I 
am.  There  is  an  officer  present. 

BINGHAM.  Eh  ?  Oh,  ah,  I  see.  (goes  up,  gets 
helmet)  Would  you  think  it  very  rude  of  me  if  I 
left  you  two  together  ? 

NORAH.    Why,  no,  of  course  not. 

BINGHAM.    I'll  stay  if  you  like. 

NORAH.    Oh,  no,  don't,  please  ! 

BINGHAM.    Then  I'm  off.     (takes  her  a  step  up) 


108  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  [ACT  III. 

And  in  case  Lady  Harburgh  doesn't  see  him  again, 
will  you  kiss  him  once  for  his  mother  ? 

NORAH.     I'll— I'll  try. 

BINGHAM.    Then  I  fancy  you'll  succeed. 

(Exit  off  L.  c.) 

NORAH.     Oh,  Billy,  why  did  you  ? 

HILDEBRAND.  I'm  an  Imperial  Yeoman,  and  I 
did  it  for  you. 

NORAH     I  know,  oh,  why  did  you  ? 

HILDEBRAND.  It's  not  a  thing  to  be  ashamed  of. 
I  may  not  look  Imperial,  but  I  am ! 

NORAH.    I  know,  but  it — it  doesn't  fit. 

HILDEBRAND.  The  uniform  is  baggy,  but  the 
Royal  Arms  are  on  every  button. 

NORAH.  Billy,  I  am  proud  of  you.  You'll  get 
your  Commission,  I  know  you  will ! 

HILDEBRAND.    And  if  I  do,  you'll  really— 

NORAH.     Look,  here's  a  keepsake. 

HILDEBRAND.    What    is    it  ?     (they    go.    Sit   R.) 

NORAH.  Open  it  and  see.  Yes,  it's  a  pocket 
medicine  chest ;  you'll  find  something  there  for 
almost  every  fever  or  disease  you're  likely  to 
get. 

HILDEBRAND.    It's  awfully  good  of  you — 

NORAH.    Look  there — 

HILDEBRAND.  "  From  your  own  loving  Norah  !  " 
My  darling  !  (they  embrace) 

NORAH.    BiUy ! 

HILDEBRAND.    This  finishes  Barker,  eh  ? 


AcrllL]  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  109 

NORAH.  Oh,  yes,  quite,  (another  embrace)  You'll 
be  careful  to  use  the  right  medicines,  won't  you  ? 

HILDEBRAND.    Yes,  dearest,  if  there's  occasion  to. 

NORAH.  A  medicine  chest  won't  be  much  good 
if — if  nothing  happens. 

HILDEBRAND.  Suppose — suppose  something  did 
happen  to  me  ?  Would  you  marry  some  one  else  ? 

NORAH.    Only  if  I  thought  you  wished  it. 

HILDEBRAND.    Barker,  I  suppose  ? 
(Returns  box  to  NORAH  ;  gets  up.    Box  tips  up,  letting 

NORAH'S  end  down.     Then  he  sits  with  his  back  to 

NORAH,  which  tips  her  end  of  box  up  again.) 

NORAH.  Oh,  but — well — if — having  known  Mr. 
Barker,  you  felt  that  he  could  fill  your — your  vacant 
chair. 

HILDEBRAND.  No,  thank  you.  (turns  on  box,  his 
back  to  audience)  Barker  sits  on  me  quite  enough  as 
it  is. 

NORAH.  (turns  round  to  him)  Hil — Hilde — Hilde- 
brand  ! 

HILDEBRAND.    Norah  ! 

NORAH.    Billy !     (cries) 

(They  embrace,  both  facing  up  stage.) 

HILDEBRAND.  I  say,  you  know,  don't  cry  before 
the  thing  happens.  One  can't  live  backwards  like 
that. 

NORAH.  (rises)  Hush !  Here  he  comes,  (goes 
up  R.  c.) 

HILDEBRAND.    Barker !     (rises) 


110  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  [ACT  III. 

NORAH.    Yes. 

HILDEBRAND.  And  I  shall  have  to  salute  him. 
(goes  over  to  extreme  L.)  Barker !  I — to  salute 
Barker  ! 

(Enter  BARKER  up  R.    HILDEBRAND  salutes, 
facing  audience.) 

BARKER,     (up  R.  c.)    Miss  Vining !    Come  to  see 
the  last  of  us  ?     (shakes  hands) 
NORAH.    Yes ;  we've  come  to  say  good-bye. 
BARKER.    Well,  I'm  awfully  pleased. 

(HILDEBRAND  is  still  saluting.) 

All  right,  my  lad  ;  you  needn't  salute  all  day.     Who 
are  you  ?     What  do  you  belong  to  ? 
HILDEBRAND.    I'm  an  Imperial  Yeoman,  sir. 

(HILDEBRAND  stops  saluting,  and  tries  to  tighten  in  his 
tunic.) 

NORAH.    Mr.  Barker,  it's — it's  Hildebrand. 

BARKER,     (comes  down  R.  c.  to  c.)     What !    Good 
Lord,  so  it  is  ! 
(Turns  to  NORAH,  who  has  come  down  R.  of  him.) 

NORAH.  Be  very  gentle  to  him.  He's  only  been 
in  the  army  a  day  and  a  half,  and  he  finds  discipline 
a  little  irksome. 

BARKER,  (comes  down  to  HILDEBRAND,  L.  c., 
HILDEBRAND  salutes)  1  heard  you'd  done  this.  If 
there's  any  advice  I  can  give  you,  let  me  know ! 

HILDEBRAND.  I  am  much  obliged,  sir,  but  I'm 
an  Imperial  Yeoman,  and  prefer  to  be  independent ! 


ACT  III.]  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  Ill 

BARKER.    As  you  please,     (goes  up  L.  c.) 

NORAH.  (down  R.  c.)  Billy,  don't  be  pompous. 
You  know  you'll  be  sea-sick. 

HILDEBRAND.  That  might  happen  to  a  Field 
Marshal. 

LADY  HARBURGH.     (outside)    Here,  you  say  ? 

NORAH.  Aunt  Agatha !  (goes  up  to  BARKER, 
R.  c.) 

(Enter  LADY  HARBURGH  up  R.) 

LADY  HARBURGH.  At  last !  Hildebrand  !  What 
have  you  done  ?  (comes  down  R.  c.) 

HILDEBRAND.  (comes  c.)  It's  all  right,  mother. 
I've  only  done  what  any  man  has  a  right  to  do. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  How  dare  you  take  this  step 
without  consulting  me  ? 

HILDEBRAND.  I  couldn't  help  it,  mother ;  the 
blood  of  the  Maclachlans  has  been  rousing  me  lately. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Have  you  seen  yourself  in  a 
mirror  in  this — this  fancy  costume  ? 

HILDEBRAND.    No,  mother. 

(Exeunt  NORAH  and  BARKER  off  up  R.) 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Then  I  wish  you  had  before 
enlisting.  And  when,  pray,  do  you  start  for  South 
Africa  ? 

HILDEBRAND.  In  a  fortnight,  I  believe ;  we're 
attached  here  for  drill.  I  find  it  awfully  confusing. 
One's  feet  seem  to  get  in  the  way,  somehow. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  You  told  me  you  were  off  for 
two  days'  shooting. 


112  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [ACT  III. 

HILDEBRAND.     So  I  was — at  target. 

LADY  HAEBURGH.  And  how  do  you,  with  your 
experience,  propose  to  conduct  yourself  in  action  ? 

HILDEBRAND.  I  don't  know  ;  I  suppose  I'll  hack 
and  slash  about  in  the  usual  way.  Look  here,  mother, 
it's  all  right,  it's  the  only  thing  I  could  do.  I've 
failed  in  everything  else.  I  should  only  have  drifted 
into  an  idle,  hopeless,  probably  dissipated  ne'er- 
do-well,  and  I  know  soldiering  will  pull  me  up.  Be- 
sides, they  want  men  that  can  ride  and  shoot,  and 
that's  all  I'm  good  for.  Come,  be  a  Spartan  mother. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  For  the  moment  I  forget  the 
characteristics  of  the  Spartan  parent,  but  to-day  I 
will  have  you  measured  for  warm  flannel  clothing. 

HILDEBRAND.  But  we  are  going  to  a  tropical 
climate. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Tropical  or  not,  I  am  a  mother, 
and  you  will  be  provided  with  the  thickest  flannel 
clothing  that  the  local  tradesmen  can  supply. 

HILDEBRAND.  Thanks  ;  I  am  glad  the  uniform  is 
baggy,  (goes  to  R.) 

LADY  HARBURGH.    Hildebrand.     (comes  to  c.) 

HILDEBRAND.    Yes,  mother  ?     (comes  to  R.  c.) 

LADY  HARBURGH.  I  think  on  the  whole  I'm  proud 
of  you. 

HILDEBRAND.  Ah,  that's  right !  Mother,  you're 
a  brick  ! 

(Enter  up  R.,  SERGEANT.) 

SERGEANT.    Trooper  Carstairs  ! 
HILDEBRAND.    Yes,    Sergeant  ? 


ACT  III.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  113 

SERGEANT.    You've  got  to  fall  in  for  drill. 
HILDEBRAND.     All  right,   Sergeant,   I'm  coming. 
(goes  up  R.) 

SERGEANT.     In  the  riding  school. 
HILDEBRAND.    Eight ! 

(Exit  SERGEANT.) 
I  must  be  off,  mater. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  (has  gone  up)  I'm  coming  to 
see  you  drill. 

HILDEBRAND.  Oh,  I  say,  mother,  don't  do  that ; 
I  get  so  nervous  and  mixed  up  with  my  feet. 

LADY  HARBURGH.     I'm  coming  to  see  you  drill. 

HILDEBRAND.  Well,  if  you  insist  upon  it,  but 
don't  go  telling  everybody  you're  my  mother. 

(Exeunt  off  up  R.) 
(Enter  MANNERING  from  L.  c.) 

MANNERING.    (R.  c.)    Hartopp ! 

HARTOPP.     (without)    Yes,  sir. 

MANNERING.     Bring  my  helmet — at  the  double. 

HARTOPP.    Yes,  sir — coming,  sir. 

(Enter  HARTOPP,  R.,  with  helmet.) 

MANNERING.    What's  the  time  ? 

HARTOPP.  (goes  up — looks  off  c.)  Three  o'clock, 
sir.  The  turn-out  will  go  in  about  half  an  hour. 
(comes  to  WALTER  and  arranges  his  sword-belt) 

(Enter  MURIEL  R.,  with  an  OFFICER.) 

MURIEL.    There  you  are,  Walter ! 
(Thanks  OFFICER,    who    salutes    and   goes    off  R.). 

B 


114  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  [AoxIII. 

MANNERING.  Muriel !  All  right,  Hartopp,  that'll 
do. 

(An  OFFICER  crosses  from  L.  to  R.  at  back) 
(Exit  HARTOPP,  L.  c.) 

MURIEL.     So  the  last  few  minutes  have  come. 

MANNERING.  Yes — I  thought  you  were  in  the 
Barrack  Square.  I  was  coming  to  say  good-bye. 

MURIEL.  Tell  me,  Walter,  you're  quite  clear  of 
all  difficulties  now  ? 

MANNERING.    Yes,  thanks  to  dear  old  Binks. 

MURIEL.  Walter — it  seems  horribly  selfish  to 
speak  of  my  own  troubles  just  when  you're  going — 
but  since  Miles  asked  me  to  be  his  wife  only  two  days 
ago,  I've  never  seen  him  nor  heard  from  him.  What 
does  it  mean  ? 

MANNERING.  (turns  away)  He's  been  up  to  the 
eyes  in  work,  (a  step  to  L.) 

MURIEL.     Yes — but  surely — even  then — 

MANNERING.  And  then  he's  not  too  reliable  in 
love  affairs,  (a  step  to  L.) 

MURIEL.    What  ?     You  mean — 

MANNERING.  I  mean  he's  the  sort  of  man  that 
loves  and  rides  away. 

MURIEL.     (R.  c.)    Walter ! 

MANNERING.  (L.  c.)  There  are  men  like  that, 
you  know — men  who  like  climbing  a  cliff  to  a  flower 
that  seems  beyond  their  reach  ;  but  once  they've  torn 
it  from  the  stem  they'll  throw  it  to  any  passer-by. 

MURIEL,    I  can't — I  won't  believe  it  of  him. 


ACT  III.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  115 

MANNERING.  It  depends  on  the  point  of  view. 
You  first  of  all  refused  and  then  you  accepted  him. 
You  can  hardly  be  surprised  if — finding  that  mean- 
time you  had  thrown  over  poor  Binks,  he  shuffles 
the  pack  again  and  has  a  fresh  deal. 

MURIEL.    You  should  be  the  last  to  tell  me  that. 

MANNERING.  Muriel,  dear,  I  only  said  that  was 
one  point  of  view ;  it  isn't  mine.  D'you  think  I 
don't  know  that  you  meant  to  be  more  than  a  sister 
to  me  !  But  the  sacrifice  would  have  made  both 
our  lives  utterly  miserable.  There  !  Don't  let  us 
be  wretched  in  the  last  moment  left.  Things  will 
come  out  all  right  in  the  long  run. 

MURIEL.  Yes,  I'm  sure  they  will,  for  I  can't 
believe  what  you've  told  me. 

MANNERING.  Anyhow,  I've  warned  you.  (a  step 
up)  Muriel,  you  don't  love  him  ? 

MURIEL.  You  may  be  quite  sure  that  I  could 
never  love  the  man  you've  described. 

MANNERING.     Yes,  but  look  here— 

VOICE,     (off  R.)    Where's  Mannering  ? 

(Enter  BINGHAM,  c.) 

MANNERING.  Hullo,  that's  the  Adjutant  shouting 
for  me ;  more  baggage  fatigue,  I  suppose.  You'll 
come  and  see  us  on  parade,  won't  you  ? 

MURIEL.    Yes,  Walter,  and  then  we'll  say  good-bye. 

MANNERING.    Ah,  that's  all  right. 

(Exit  R.) 
BINGHAM.    How  d'ye  do,  Miss  Mannering  ?    I'm 


116  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [ACT  III. 

awfully  sorry,  Miss  Mannering,  intruding  like  this 
on  you  and  your  brother. 

MURIEL,  (sits  on  case  up  c.)  No,  no,  he  only 
went  because  the  Adjutant  wanted  him. 

BINGHAM.  (up  R.  c.)  I  see — but  (places  hat,  etc., 
on  case  down  R.)  You  mustn't  be  down  on  your  luck, 
you  know.  You  ought  to  be  as  cheery  as  possible. 
A  campaign  is  such  a  glorious  chance  for  all  of  us. 
By  Jove  !  It's  magnificent.  When  the  charge  goes 
and  you're  well  back  in  the  saddle,  with  legs  like  a 
vice,  with  the  rattle  and  roar,  the  clash  and  thunder 
and  glitter  of  it  all — Oh  !  it's  splendid  !  (goes  to  L.) 

MURIEL.     Oh,  then,  you've  seen  active  service  ? 

BINGHAM.  Eh — well — no,  I  haven't.  But  I  take 
in  all  the  illustrated  papers,  (foot  on  chair  L.,  arranges 
puttee) 

MURIEL.  I'm  quite  sure  of  one  thing — that  you'll 
always  be  the  bravest  of  soldiers — just  as  I  know 
you  to  be  the  soul  of  honour. 

BINGHAM.    The  soul  of  honour — am  I — that  ? 

MURIEL.    Are  you  not  ? 

BINGHAM.  (foot  off  chair)  Possibly— allowing  for 
occasional  lapses. 

MURIEL.  Why  ?  There's  nothing  you've  ever 
done  that  you're  ashamed  of  ? 

BINGHAM.  (looks  at  her)  Yes,  there  is,  but  I 
haven't  the  pluck  to  tell  you.  (turns  away) 

MURIEL  (rises,  comes  down  c.  to  him)  You — • 
you've  forgiven  and  forgotten  all  the  pain  I  caused 
you  ? 


ACT  III.]  SECOND  IN   COMMAND.  117 

BINGHAM.  Oh,  it's  all  right.  The  very  best  thing 
in  the  world  is  happening — we're  ofE  on  service. 
And  nothing  can  ever  rob  me  of  the  memory  that  once, 
for  a  time,  our  hands  were  clasped,  and  I  was  the 
happiest  man  in  the  whole  broad  world. 

(MURIEL  offers  her  hand.    BINGHAM  holds  it  in  both 
hands.) 

That's  a  story  that  I'll  whisper  to  the  winds  and 
trees  and  stars  of  South  Africa  every  night.  But  no 
one  else  shall  know. 

MURIEL,  (moves  to  R.  c.)  You  see,  I  never  knew 
what  love  meant  till  Miles  came — and  then  the  whole 
world  seemed  to  burst  into  blossom — • — • 

BINGHAM.  But— but  surely  it  was  to  help  Walter 
— you  don't — you  can't  mean  that — — • 

MURIEL,  (turns  to  him)  Yes,  Kit,  I  do,  Miles  is 
all  the  world  to  me. 

BINGHAM.     I  never  knew  that.    I  thought — — • 

MURIEL.  I  tried  not  to  let  you  see  it.  I  knew 
how  it  would  pain  you.  (goes  L.) 

BINGHAM.  And  I  believed  it  was  all  for  Walter's 
sake.  Muriel !  (she  turns)  I've  a  confession  to 
make,  (he  advances  to  speak — MURIEL  turns  to  him) 
The  fact  is — no,  I  can't  speak  it — I  haven't  the  pluck. 
But  I'll  write  it  now,  you'll  have  it  before  the  regiment 
goes,  and  then — -well,  then — you'll  forgive  me  if  you 
can. 

ANSTRUTHER.  (witJiout)  What !  In  the  ante- 
room? 


118  SECOND   IISTCOMMAND.  [ACT  III. 

CORPORAL,    ^without)    Yes,  sir. 
MURIEL,     (goes    up    R.    c.)    That's    Colonel    An- 
struther's  voice.     Tell  him  I  am  here,  that  I  must  see 
him.    Say  I  must  speak  to  him. 
(Exit  off  L.  c.) 
BINGHAM.    I'll  tell  him. 

(Enter  COLONEL  ANSTRUTHER  up  R.) 

Are  you  looking  for  me,  sir  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  Kit,  my  boy,  I've  got  bad  news 
for  you.  (hand  on  KIT'S  shoulder) 

BINGHAM.     Bad  news  ?     Why— what  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.    I  hardly  know  how  to  tell  you. 

BINGHAM.  That's  all  right,  sir — out  with  it. 
(backs  away  a  step)  I've  had  lots  of  training  in  bad 
luck. 

ANSTRUTHER.  You're — you're  not  to  go  with  us. 
(looking  at  telegram) 

BINGHAM.    Not  to  go  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.    No. 

BINGHAM.    Not  to  go  with  the  regiment  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  (reads  telegram)  The  order  has 
just  come  from  the  Brigade  Office.  They're  sending 
out  Carlyon  of  the  7th  on  special  service,  and  a  Cavalry 
Major  has  got  to  take  his  place  at  Canterbury,  and 
you've  been  detailed.  Heaven  and  the  War  Office 
only  know  why  they  choose  a  man  who  is  on  the  eve 
of  sailing. 

BINGHAM.    /  know. 

ANSTRUTHER.    You  do  ? 


ACT  III.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  119 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  it's  because  I'm  a  hopeless  duffer. 
It's — it's  really  true? 

ANSTRUTHER.  Yes,  Kit,  here's  the  order,  (offers 
telegram) 

BINGHAM.  I  see.  Thanks,  no,  I  don't  want  to 
read  it. 

ANSTRUTHER.  (c.)  I  know  what  you're  feeling, 
old  fellow,  (hands  on  BINGHAM'S  shoulder) 

BINGHAM.  Yes.  (crosses  slowly  to  R.)  They've 
scored  me  off  this  time.  They've  got  a  bull's  eye. 
They've  kept  back  the  man  that  they  thought  of 
least  use  in  the  field. 

ANSTRUTHER.    And  they're  wrong. 

BINGHAM\  (R.)  I'm  not  so  sure.  It's  the  hardest 
thing  that's  ever  happened  to  me  in  fifteen  years' 
soldiering,  and  the  first  instance  I  remember  of  the 
War  Office  being  probably  wise. 

ANSTRUTHER.  (hand  on  shoulder)  Anyhow,  Kit, 
no  one  feels  the  loss  of  your  services  more  deeply  than 
I  do.  I'd  have  trusted  you  anywhere,  and  I  know 
that  on  the  field  no  braver  man  will  carry  a  sword. 

BINGHAM.  Thanks,  Colonel.  I'm  proud  of  your 
saying  that.  But  I  never  was  any  good.  I'd 
probably  fire  volleys  into  our  own  men,  or  reinforce 
the  enemy,  or  do  something  damned  silly. 

ANSTRUTHER.  But  they  say  three  more  divisions 
are  going  out,  and  you  can  work  it,  Kit,  with  a  little 
interest.  You  can  follow  us  out  later  on.  The 
General  said  there  was  a  chance  of  that,  (hands  on 
shoulders) 


120  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [ACT  III. 

BINGHAM.     Did  he  ? 

ANSTBUTHEB.    Yes. 

BINGHAM.    He  doesn't  know  my  luck. 

(ANSTRUTHEB  turns  up  L.  a  step.) 

BINGHAM.  Not  going  out !  Not  going  with  the 
regiment !  Left— left  behind  !  What  the — why  in 
Heaven's  name — — 

ANSTBUTHEB.     Kit !     (severely) 

BINGHAM.  I  beg  pardon,  sir — I  forgot— I've  some- 
thing to  write  and  there's  some  one  waiting  to  say 
good-bye  to  you. 

ANSTBUTHEB.    Where  ? 

BINGHAM.    There  !     (points  off  L.)     Not  going  out ! 

(HABTOPP  enters  down  B.,  with  MA  JOB'S  sword.) 

HABTOPP.     Your  sword,  sir.     (stands  in  doorway  and 
salutes) 

BINGHAM.     Thanks.     I — I  shan't  want  it. 

HABTOPP.    Not  want  it,  sir  ? 

BINGHAM.  No,  I'm  not  for  parade,  (waves  HAB- 
TOPP aside) 

(HABTOPP  gets  above  door.) 

I'm  left— left  behind  ! 

(Exit  down  R.    HARTOPP  follows,  closing  door.) 

MEDENHAM.  (heard  off  R.)  Now  then,  fetch  away 
this  baggage — go  on — at  the  double. 

(Sounds  of  a  body  of  men  running  on  stone.     Chains 
clinking.     COLONEL  goes  to  door  B.,   sJiowing  his 


ACT  III.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  121 

compassion  for  BINGHAM,  then  turns  and  goes  up 
R.  c.  and  meets  MURIEL  as  she  enters.) 

(Enter  MURIEL,  L.  c.) 

MURIEL,    (up  c.)    Miles ! 

ANSTRUTHER.  Miss  Mannering  !  I'd  no  idea  you 
were  there  till  Kit — Major  Bingham — told  me. 
(turns  away  to  down  R.  a  little) 

MURIEL,  (comes  to  him)  Miss — what  is  it — are 
we  not  to — • — 

ANSTRUTHER.    No— I'm  not  worthy  of  that. 

MURIEL.  I — -I  don't  understand.  You've  never 
been  near  me,  and  every  hour  I've  watched  and 
waited.  I  kept  indoors  ever  since — since  that  night 
— and  every  time  1  heard  a  step  or  the  clatter  of  a 
horse  I  flew  to  the  window — but — but — -you  never 
came.  Then  I  thought  you'd  send  a  letter,  and  as 
the  hour  for  the  post  drew  near,  I  was  in  a  fever, 
but  all  for  nothing.  I  daren't  leave  the  house  for  fear 
I  should  miss  you,  and  at  last — to-day — half  afraid 
and  half  ashamed — I  came  here.  As  I  passed  in 
through  the  barrack  gates,  I  felt  my  cheeks  flaming. 
It  seemed  that  every  one  was  staring  at  me,  and  I 
didn't  know  where  to  turn.  And  then  I  found 
Walter- 

ANSTRUTHER.  (not  looking  at  her)  I've  written 
a  letter  making  everything  clear ;  but  I  arranged 
that  you  shouldn't  get  it  till  after  we'd  gone. 

MURIEL.    But  why,  Miles  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.     Because  I'm  not  worthy  of  you. 


122  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [ACT  III. 

Because  I  wanted  to  spare  myself  the  pain  of  a  last 
meeting. 

MURIEL.  You  mean  that  you  regret — that  you 
wish  to  draw  back — that  everything's  to  be  over  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.    Yes. 

MURIEL.    Really  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.    Yes. 

MURIEL,     (pause)    Very — well. 

ANSTRUTHER.     You  must — throw  me  over. 

MURIEL.    Yes. 

ANSTRUTHER.    As  not  fit  to  be  your  husband. 

MURIEL,     (a  step  down  c.)    If  you  say  it — yes. 

ANSTRUTHER.  (throws  piece  of  telegram  away. 
Comes  to  her)  The  whole  thing  seems  brutal,  I  know. 
But  that  night  I  was  excited,  the  orders  for  active 
service  had  come,  I  was  mad  with  delight  at  the  idea 
of  going  out.  I — I'd  even — been  drinking.  And  you 
sat  beside  me,  radiant,  kind,  good,  full  of  sympathy 
and  help  for  all  of  us.  And  there  came  from  the 
flowers  you  were  wearing  a  faint  perfume  that  brought 
to  my  memory  a  woman  that  I  used  to  care  for,  that 
I  even  loved.  I  lived  for  the  moment ;  the  flowers, 
the  wine,  your  own  goodness  had  played  on  my 
imagination. 

MURIEL,  (down  c.,  her  back  to  him)  And  the 
perfume  I  was  wearing  reminded  you  of  another 
woman. 

ANSTRUTHER.    Yes. 

MURIEL.  Wakening  some  happy  memory  that  had 
been  asleep  ? 


ACT  III.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  123 

ANSTEUTHER.    Yes. 

MURIEL,  (pause)  Was — she — good — and  beau- 
tiful— this  other  woman  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  It's  past  and  done  with.  And  it 
seems  to  me  it  doesn't  matter  now.  (goes  down  R., 
his  back  to  her) 

MURIEL.  No ;  it  doesn't  matter  now.  Nothing 
does.  I  only  wondered  if  she  loved  you. 

ANSTRUTHER.  What  I've  said,  I've  said  to  let 
you  see  that  I  am  honestly  saving  you  from  a  great 
unhappiness. 

MURIEL.  Yes ;  I  understand  that,  (goes  to  him) 
Is  it  all  true  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  A  man  would  scarcely  brand  him- 
self as  I've  done  were  it  not. 

MURIEL.  No  ;  there  would  be  no  reason.  Some- 
how, I  can't  keep  my  head  very  clear,  (comes  down) 
I  think  the  strain — and  Walter  going — and  this — • 
and  then  the  heat.  You'll  be  glad  of  the  fresh 
(gets  L.)  sea  air.  (sits  down  L.) 

(COLONEL  turns  to  box  c.,is  about  to  take  up  helmet, 
stops,  then) 

ANSTRUTHER.  I  want  to  ask  you  something — 
may  I  ? 

MURIEL.     Yes ;  ask  me  anything. 

ANSTRUTHER.  Did  you  mean  to  ask  me  to  pay 
your  brother's  debts  ? 

MURIEL.    Yes. 

ANSTRUTHER.    And   that   night,    when   I  forgot 


124  SECOND  IN   COMMAND.  [ACT  III. 

myself,  were  you  then  engaged  to  Kit — to  Major 
Bingham  ? 

MURIEL.     Yes,  it's  all  quite  true. 

ANSTRUTHER.  (c.)  I'd  have  given  Walter  any- 
thing he  asked,  but  it  was  better  that — as  luck  had 
it — it  should  come  from  an  old  friend.  I — I  wonder 
will  you  go  back  to  him  ? 

MURIEL.    To  Kit  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.    Yes. 

MURIEL.  No — I  couldn't — it  wouldn't  be  decent. 
That  isn't  the  right  word,  but  I  can't  think.  No, 
I've  lived  for  two  days — I  couldn't  go  back  to  that. 

ANSTRUTHER.     (eagerly)    For  two  days  ? 

MURIEL.  Yes  ;  just  as  you  lived  for  that  one  short 
hour,  lived  with  the  wine  and  the  perfume,  and  the 
memory  of  that  "  other "  woman.  You  thought 
you  saw  them  all  incarnate  in  me,  and  then — when 
the  fumes  passed  off — you  died.  So  I,  the  woman 
that  lived  for  these  two  days  in  a  fever  of  waiting — 
waiting — waiting — so  too  that  woman  is  dead. 

ANSTRUTHER.     (coldly)    You  have  realized 

MURIEL,  (rises)  I've  realized  that  I  was  blind 
and  in  love  with  a  phantom,  just  as  once  I  was  with  a 
picture,  (crosses  in  front  of  him  to  up  R.  of  COLONEL 
above  him)  I  don't  know  why  we're  waiting  here — 
you  had  no  right  to  come  into  my  life  and  ask  me 
to  give  you  all  that  a  woman  has  to  give,  knowing 
that  once  given,  you  would  throw  it  aside  to  be  trodden 
under  foot  by  any  gossip  or  passer  by — -to  bring  this 
story  of  wine  and  perfume  and  memory (goes  up) 


ACT  III.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  125 

ANSTRUTHER.  (turns  to  her)  Muriel — is  it  possible 
that  you 

MURIEL,  (wildly)  Everything  is  possible  once, 
but  now  you  stand  before  me,  (sadly)  a  picture  de- 
faced, a  dream  that  hasn't  come  true,  (cries  a  little 
— fiercely)  Can't  you  see  what  you've  done  ?  I — 
I — never  spoke  like  this  in  my  life.  I  don't  seem 
to  be — even  my  wretched  self,  (sobs) 

ANSTRUTHER.  I  will  do  anything  you  ask.  God 
knows  that's  true,  Muriel. 

(Buzz  of  voices  heard  off  R.  and  L.) 

MURIEL.  Yes,  it's  true.  For  what  I  ask  of  you — 
is  nothing.  One  of  us  must  go.  (crosses  to  L.)  I 
can't  breathe  here,  and  I  daren't  go  to  the  others. 
My  face  is  burning — burning,  (cries) 

(Bugle  heard  off.) 

ANSTRUTHER.  (takes  helmet  and  gloves — comes  to 
her)  Good-bye. 

MURIEL.    Good-bye. 

ANSTRUTHER.    Won't  you  for  the  last  time — 

MURIEL,  (looks  at  his  hand)  No,  I  couldn't 
touch  your  hand. 

(TROOPER  co;:ies  from  L.  at  back  to  c.,  takes  up  a  case 
and  exits  L.) 

ANSTRUTHER.  No,  I  deserve  that,  (goes  to  R.) 
Good-bye. 

MURIEL.    I've  said  it  once. 
ANSTRUTHER.    Yes,  I  forgot. 


126  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [ACT  III. 

(Enter  BINGHAM  down  R.,  with  letter.    COLONEL  comes 

down  to  him.     They  shake.) 
Kit! 
BINGHAM.     Good-bye,  sir — good  luck. 

(Exit  ANSTRUTHER.) 

Muriel,  here's  the  letter  I  told  you  I'd  write. 
MURIEL.    What  letter? 
BINGHAM.    Read  it,  and  you'll  see. 
VOICE,     (off  R.)     Company,  number. 

(Enter  BARKER  and  two  OFFICERS.) 
(Bugle  sounds.) 

BARKER.  Good-bye,  Major ;  awfully  sorry  you're 
not  coming  with  us. 

IST  SUBALTERN.  But  you'll  follow  us  out,  sir, 
won't  you  ? 

BINGHAM.     Yes,  yes,  I'll  try. 

BARKER.    Of  course  ! 

(Enter  MANNERING,  L.  c.) 
You'll  get  out,  sir. 

MANNERING.    Muriel — we're  off. 

MURIEL.    Walter ! 

MANNERING.  Come  to  the  barrack  square,  and 
see  the  advance  party  marching  out. 

(Exeunt.) 

BINGHAM.  You'll  be  good  boys,  won't  you  ?  Re- 
member you're  serving  in  the  finest  regiment  in  the 
world.  And  be  sure  you  take  lots  of  cover  and  be 
good  to  the  gees. 


ACT  III.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  127 

CHORUS.      Kather,      sir !      Eight !      Good-bye ! 
Good-bye  ! 

BINGHAM.     She's  read  it !     (tears  up  letter.    Bus.) 

(When  BINGHAM  sinks  on  box,  his  face  in  hands) 

CURTAIN. 


PROPERTIES 


ACT   IV 

Norah  at  door  on  right  on  rise  of  curtain,  listening. 

Lady  Harburgh  at  left  of  table  in  centre  rolling  bandages. 

Medicine  bottles  and  glasses  at  right  of  table  in  centre. 

Biscuit  barrel  on  table  up  right. 

Binks  on  entry  goes  to  couch  with  assistance  of  Norah  on  left. 

Book  (Lover's  Leap)  on  table  in  centre. 

Bingham's  left  foot  in  bandages  and  large  slipper. 

Bingham's  left  arm  in  sling. 

Victoria  Cross  and  pin  for  Duke  of  Hull. 

Kettle  on  fire  (steaming)  and  spirit  lamp. 


•a 


>•     03  05 ;  3 


ACT   IV. 

A  year  elapses  between  Acts  III  and  IV. 
SCENE. — Trafalgar  Cottage,  Portsmouth. 

(HiLDEBRAND  is  discovered  asleep  in  armchair,  above 
fireplace.  LADY  HARBURGH  is  discovered  rolling 
bandages  c.,  and  NOR  AH  is  listening  at  door  R.) 

NORAH.     What  are  you  doing  ? 

BINGHAM.     (without)    It's  all  right,  I'm  dressing. 

NORAH.  You  mustn't  go  doing  things  that  you 
can't,  you  know ;  hadn't  I  better  help  you  ? 

BINGHAM.     No  thanks,  my  man's  doing  everything. 

NORAH.  Let  me  know  when  you're  ready,  and 
I'll  give  you  an  arm  in  here. 

BINGHAM.    All   right.    I'll   shout   out   presently. 

LADY  HARBURGH.    Hildebrand's  still  asleep. 

NORAH.  He  sleeps  all  day.  Fancy  Billy  a  ser- 
geant !  Just  look  at  him.  Sergeant  the  Honourable 
Hildebrand  Carstairs — promoted  on  the  field. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  And  still  better,  recommended 
for  a  commission. 

NORAH.    Aunt  Agatha,  aren't  you  proud  ? 
|_  LADY  HARBURGH.    Yes,  dear,  I  am  proud  of  him. 


132  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [Acr  IV. 

But  the  blood  of  the  Maclachlans  of  the  Hebrides 
was  bound  to  come  out. 

NORAH.     Yes,  it  came  out  and  stained  the  veldt. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Ah  !  Poor  boy  !  I  try  not 
to  think  of  those  awful  days  when  we  didn't  dare  to 
look  at  the  morning  or  evening  papers  for  fear  of 
finding  the  name  we  loved.  And  the  terrible  night 
when  at  last  we  came  on  it  unexpectedly,  followed 
by  the  one  word  "  severely."  But  that's  all  over 
The  room  looks  trim  and  tidy,  doesn't  it  ? 

NORAH.  Yes  ;  truly  it  was  an  inspiration  to  rent 
this  dear  old  cottage,  and  take  charge  of  our  own 
beloved  wounded  the  moment  they  touched  the 
shore. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Has  Major  Bingham  had  his 
beef-tea  ? 

NORAH.  Yes,  1  gave  it  him  half  an  hour  ago. 
D'you  know,  Aunt,  I  can't  imagine  how  he  got  out 
to  South  Africa. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  General  Clayton  told  me  it 
was  because,  broken-hearted  at  being  left  behind, 
he  sat  on  the  steps  of  the  War  Office  for  a  week, 
till  they  actually  sent  him  out  to  get  rid  of  him. 

NORAH.  And  now  just  a  year's  gone,  and  he's 
back  by  the  same  hospital  ship  that  brought  Billy, 
but  both  so  dreadfully  battered. 

LADY  HARBURGH.    Poor  fellows  ! 

NORAH.  Both  he  and  Billy  were  wildly  excited 
when  Muriel  told  them  the  trooper  with  the  regiment 
came  in  thisjnorning. 


ACT  IV.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  133 

LADY  HARBURGH.  She's  gone  down  to  the  quay, 
hasn't  she  ?  (pours  out  medicine) 

(HILDEBRAND  stretches.) 

NORAH.  Yes ;  to  meet  Walter.  He  won't  be 
able  to  come  here  ;  both  he  and  Mr.  Barker  are 
ordered  to  Colchester  at  once. 

HILDEBRAND.    (yawns)    Where's — where's  Norah? 

NORAH.     (down  on  his  R.)    Here  I  am,  Billy  dear  ! 

HILDEBRAND.     That's  all  right. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  (comes  to  R.  c.  with  glass  of 
medicine)  You've  been  asleep. 

HILDEBRAND.  I  know.  Can  I  have  some 
chicken  ? 

NORAH.     Billy,  you  had  a  whole  wing  an  hour  ago. 

HILDEBRAND.    Had  I  ?     I  feel  almost  empty. 

LADY  HARBURGH.    You  must  wait  till  five  o'clock. 

HILDEBRAND.     Can't  I  have  a  mug  of  beer? 

NORAH.     Beer  ?     No  ! 

LADY  HARBURGH.  No,  certainly  not !  There— 
that's  all  you'll  get — your  medicine. 

HILDEBRAND.  It's  such  bitter  stuff.  Tastes  like 
materialized  morality. 

LADY  HARBURGH.    Down  with  it !    All  of  it ! 

HILDEBRAND.     Am  I  looking  better  ? 

LADY  HARBURGH.  Yes,  dear,  I  never  saw  you 
look  so  like  a  Maclachlan  before. 

HILDEBRAND.  They  must  have  been  a  seedy 
looking  lot.  I  say,  you  know,  the  doctor  said  I  was 
to  get  out  into  the  sun  to-day. 


134  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [AerlV. 

LADY  HARBUEGH.  Yes,  dear,  I'm  going  to  take 
you  to  the  garden.  I'll  go  and  put  my  things  on 
now.  Norah,  you'll  take  care  of  Major  Bingham. 

NORAH.    Yes,  aunt. 

(Exit  LADY  HARBURGH.) 

HILDEBRAND.  I  say,  Norah,  quick  !  Let's  have 
something  to  eat ! 

NORAH.    No,  Billy,  I  daren't. 

HILDEBRAND.     I'm  horribly  hungry. 

NORAH.     I  know,  dear,  but — 

HILDEBRAND.  It's  simply  tearing  me  internally, 
and  never  forget  that  it's  the  little  rift  within  the 
lute  and  so  on. 

NORAH.  Poor  soul !  Well,  I  know  I  oughtn't 
to — but  I'll  give  you  a  biscuit — one,  only  one. 

HILDEBRAND.  That's  a  dear  girl !  Give  me  a 
big  one  ! 

NORAH.     There  !     (gives  him  biscuit) 

BINGHAM.     (without)    What  ho  !     I'm  ready  ! 

NORAH.  All  right,  I'm  coming,  (goes  through 
door  for  a  moment) 

HILDEBRAND.  There's  awfully  little  sustenance 
in  a  biscuit.  It  seems  to  get  lost. 

(NoRAH  returns  with  MAJOR  BINGHAM.) 

BINGHAM.     Well,  young  man  ? 

HILDEBRAND.    Well,  sir. 

BINGHAM.    Why  has  he  a  biscuit  ? 

NORAH.    He  oughtn't  to,  but  he  would  have  it. 


ACT  IV.]  SECOND   IN  COMMAND.  135 

BINGHAM.     Then  I  want  one. 

NORAH.  No,  no  !  You're  not  to  have  any  solid 
food  to-day.  The  doctor  said  so. 

BINGHAM.    What  had  you  for  lunch  ? 

HILDEBRAND.     Chicken. 

BINGHAM.  Ah !  I  thought  so ;  I  sniffed  it.  I 
want  to  know  why  he  gets  these  things,  if  I  don't. 

NORAH.  (places  BINGHAM'S  legs  slowly  on  cushion 
on  couch)  You  know  perfectly.  Besides,  you're 
to  have  some  jelly  in  an  hour. 

HILDEBRAND.    Am  I  ? 

NORAH.  (rises)  No  !  (takes  other  cushion  round 
behind  sofa) 

HILDEBRAND.     Why  is  he  to  have  jelly  if  I'm  not  ? 

BINGHAM.     I  like  that.    What  about  your  chicken  ? 

HILDEBRAND.  That's  past.  I'm  thinking  of  the 
future. 

NORAH.  Oh,  for  goodness  sake  stop  quarrelling 
about  your  food. 

HILDEBRAND.  Isn't  that  like  her  ?  For,  mark 
you,  she  had  pigeon  pie  and  an  apple  souffle  for 
lunch. 

BINGHAM.  Pigeon  pie  and  a  souffle !  Can  Hea- 
ven be  so  near.  Tell  me,  little  gourmet,  what's  the 
time? 

NORAH.  (looks  at  clock)  Nearly  three  o'clock. 
(gets  a  book,  "  Lover's  Leap,"  from  table  up  c.) 

BINGHAM.  Some  of  the  regiment  ought  to  be  here 
soon. 

NORAH.     Yes ;  so  keep  quiet  till  they  come.    I'm 


136  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [ACT  It, 

going  to  read  to  both  of  you  till  Aunt  Agatha's  ready. 
(sits  c.  at  head  of  sofa) 

BINGHAM.     That's  capital. 

NORAH.  It'll  keep  you  quiet,  anyhow.  We're  at 
Chapter  ten. 

BINGHAM.     I  forget  the  name  of  the  story. 

NORAH.     It's  The  Lover's  Leap. 

BINGHAM.     Ah,  yes ;    of  course. 

NORAH.     Are  you  quite  comfortable  ? 

BINGHAM.     Quite. 

HlLDEBRAND.      I'm  not. 

(Beckons  to  NORAH,  who  brings  her  chair  quietly  over 
and  sits  L.  of  HILDEBRAND.) 

BINGHAM.    Fire  ahead  ! 

NORAH.  Very  well,  then.  You  remember  we 
left  off  where  Koderick  and  Cynthia  meet  on  the 
heather. 

BINGHAM.     Oh,  she's  always  going  up  there. 

NORAH.  (reading)  "  She  stood  gazing  into  his 
eyes,  the  sunlight  turning  her  soft  hair  to  a  golden 
lustre.  Scarce  knowing  what  she  did  her  arms  crept 
round  his  neck,  (places  her  arms  round  HILDE- 
BRAND' s  neck)  And  in  a  moment  as  a  wild  and 
sudden  blush  leapt  to  her  cheek,  she  kissed  him 
passionately."  (kisses  HILDEBRAND) 

BINGHAM.    Is  that  all? 

NORAH.  Oh  no  !  I  lost  the  place  ;  that's  all. 
Here  it  is!  "  And  Koderick,  what  of  him  ?  A 
great  joy  shone  in  his  raven  eyes — 


ACT  IV.]  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  137 

(HiLDEBRAND  turns  his  eyes  up.     NORAH  laughs.) 

as  gently  he  gathered  her  to  him,  and  folded  her  in 
his  arms." 

(NoRAH  and  HILDEBRAND  embrace.  Pause.  BING- 
HAM  listens — then  sits  up,  looks  about,  then  turns 
and  looks  to  R.,  sees  them,  and  hides  his  face  in  soft 
cushions  and  laughs  quietly.  Looks  up,  then  repeats 
bus.) 

BINGHAM.     Just  like  that,  I  suppose. 

(NORAH  and  HILDEBRAND  break  apart.) 
Go    on !     I    won't    look    round    again,     (lays  down 
again) 

NORAH.  Hildebrand  was  a  little  tired,  that's  all. 
(engrossed  in  book) 

HILDEBRAND.     Yes,  I  feel  awfully  done  up. 

BINGHAM.  So  do  I !  And  I  want  the  same 
treatment. 

(NoRAH  stops  reading,  and  pretends  to  be  indignant.) 
So  come  over  here. 

(Enter  MURIEL.) 

NORAH.  (rises)  Oh,  here's  Muriel,  (places  book 
on  table  behind  sofa) 

BINGHAM.    Have  you  seen  the  regiment  ? 

MURIEL,  (takes  off  hat)  Yes,  and  they're  all 
in  the  wildest  spirits.  You'll  see  some  of  them 
presently,  (places  hat  on  table  down  L.) 

BINGHAM.  And  you  saw  Graves,  and  old  Tatters, 
and  Walter,  and  Jellicoe  ? 


138  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [ACT  IV. 

MURIEL.  Yes.  They're  as  cheery  as  possible, 
and  all  asking  for  you. 

NORAH.     And  Mr.  Barker  ? 

MURIEL.    Yes. 

HILDEBRAND.  Why  drag  in  Barker  ?  What  does 
it  matter  about  Barker  ?  Barker  wasn't  wounded. 

MURIEL.  Then  I  went  to  the  station  with  Walter, 
and  saw  him  off  to  Colchester,  and  here  I  am.  (crosses 
in  front  to  R.,  taking  off  her  coat  as  she  goes,  and  places 
it  on  table  down  R.)  Billy,  your  mother's  ready. 
She  says  you're  to  go  to  her. 

HILDEBRAND.     (rising)    Come  on  then,  Norah. 

NORAH.  Gently — don't  make  a  fuss,  (as  she 
helps  HILDEBRAND)  You're  so  ridiculously  pleased 
at  being  an  invalid. 

HILDEBRAND.  I  do  hope  that  the  fresh  air  won't 
give  more  of  an  appetite.  I've  got  such  a  lot  already. 
I  say,  Norah,  do  I  look  interesting  ? 

NORAH.    Yes,  awfully. 

(HILDEBRAND  and  NORAH  exeunt.) 

MURIEL.     The  Duke  of  Hull  went  on  board. 

BINGHAM.     Oh  !     By  Jove  ! 

MURIEL.     And  made  a  little  speech. 

BINGHAM.     Did  he  really  ? 

MURIEL.    Every  one  was  delighted. 

BINGHAM.     I  should  think  so. 

MURIEL.     They  say  he's  coming  here  later  on. 

BINGHAM.    Here  ? 

MURIEL.     Yes  ;    by  special  request. 


ACT  IV.  SECOND  IN  COMMAND.  139 

BlNGHAM.      Oh,  but— 

MURIEL.     To  see  you  two  invalids. 

BINGHAM.     It  can't  be— 

MURIEL.     I  dare  say  it's  only  a  rumour. 

BINGHAM.     Oh,  sure  to  be. 

MURIEL.     Still,  I've  an  idea  he'll  come. 

BINGHAM.  Tell  me,  did  you  see  Colonel  Anstru- 
ther? 

MURIEL.  No  ;  he  was  busy  in  the  saloon,  signing 
disembarkation  returns  and  all  sorts  of  things.  And 
I — I  kept  out  of  his  way. 

BINGHAM.  I  wish  you  hadn't.  D'you  know  this 
is  the  first  time  we've  been  alone  together  since  I 
came  here  ? 

MURIEL.     Is  it  really  ? 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  the  first  time.  And  I  want  to 
tell  you  something. 

MURIEL.    Kit,  not  the  old— 

BINGHAM.  No,  no !  Good  heavens,  no  !  That's 
all  over.  No !  It's  this.  I've  found  out  from 
little  things  you've  said  that  you  never  read  my 
letter,  my  confession. 

MURIEL.     I  didn't  want  to. 

BINGHAM.  The  gist  of  it  was  that  I  had  kept  you 
two — you  and  Miles — apart. 

MURIEL.    You,  Kit  ? 

BINGHAM.  Yes.  It's  as  true  as  that  the  sun 
is  shining  there  on  the  Isle  of  Wight.  I  told  a  lie — 
yes,  it's  a  horrid  low  word,  but  we  can't  get  away 
from  it ;  I  led  Miles  to  believe  that  you  loved  me. 


140  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [ACT  IV. 

I  believed  you  meant  to  many  him  only  to  save 
Walter.  And  I  kept  saying  to  myself,  "  All's  fair  in 
Love  and  War."  But  now  that  I've  been  through 
both  I  know  that,  like  most  proverbs,  it's  only  true 
in  exception,  not  in  rule. 

MURIEL.     But  there  was  "  another  "  woman — 

BINGHAM.  No,  no,  there  wasn't.  She  was  in- 
vented to  give  you  a  pretext  for  throwing  him  over. 

MURIEL.  Kit,  you  don't  mean  that  he — he  loves 
me? 

BINGHAM.  There  never  was  a  man  who  loved  a 

woman  as  he  loves  you,  unless  perhaps (turns 

aivay,  twirls  moustache) 

MURIEL.    Yes  ? 

BINGHAM.     A  poor  devil  they  call  Binks. 

MURIEL.     Kit !     (extends  her  left  hand) 

BINGHAM.  (takes  her  hand  in  his  right)  It's  all 
right.  Don't  worry.  That  book  was  closed  long 
ago.  It's  on  the  shelf,  and  the  dust  is  gathering 
already.  But  I've  lain  awake  for  hours  every  night 
of  the  year  that  has  gone,  sick  with  pain — a  pain 
that  gave  me  no  rest — to  think  that  I,  Kit  Bingham, 
could  be  guilty  of  the  lie  I  told  !  I  was  mad.  It 
was  the  slip  of  a  moment  and  then  I  hadn't  the  pluck 
to  confess.  But,  Muriel,  I  told  him 

MURIEL.    You  told  him  ? 

BINGHAM.  Yes,  one  night  on  the  veldt.  It  was 
a  hot,  airless  night,  and  I  was  parched,  I  had  a  touch 
of  fever.  He  woke,  saw  me  tumbling  and  tossing, 
so  he  got  up,  went  to  the  river  and  fetched  me  a 


ACT  IV.]  SECOND   IN  COMMAND.  141 

canteen  of  cool  water.  I  remember  so  well,  the  dusty 
grass,  the  dry  throat,  and  a  great  vulture  that  flapped 
up  to  the  sky  with  an  angry  screech  as  Miles  came 
back  to  the  tent.  There  had  been  a  big  fight  the 
day  before.  What  a  drink  it  was  !  I  sucked  down 
the  muddy  water  like  a  vampire.  And  then,  with 
only  the  moonlight  that  poured  in  through  the  gap 
of  the  tent  as  witness,  I  told  him  everything. 

ANSTRUTHER.  (heard  off  L.)  What !  Upstairs  ? 
Oh,  all  right,  I'll  find  it. 

BINGHAM.     Listen  !     That's  his  voice  below. 

MURIEL.     Yes,  yes,  (rises)  I  hear ! 

(Places  chair  up  a  little,  goes  to  R.  of  table  c.  ;    places 
work  down. 

BINGHAM.  He's  coming !  Muriel,  quick !  do  me 
a  favour.  Tell  him  I'm  asleep  when  he  comes  into 
the  room. 

MURIEL.    Asleep  ? 

BINGHAM.  Yes  ;  I'd  give  all  I  have  in  the  world 
to  hear  your  reconciliation. 

MURIEL.    But,  Kit— 

BINGHAM.  Ah,  promise  !  I'll  only  eavesdrop  for 
a  moment.  Hush  !  here  he  is  !  I'm  a  sick  man, 
humour  me. 

(Enter  COLONEL  ANSTRUTHER.) 

ANSTRUTHER.    Miss  Mannering. 
MURIEL.    Yes,  welcome  home. 
ANSTRUTHER.     You  mean  that — honestly  ? 
MURIEL.    Yes,  indeed  I  mean  it* 


142  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [Acr  IV. 

ANSTRUTHER.  Then  it's  worth  a  year's  absence 
to  hear  it.  (awkward  pause,  then  sees  BINGHAM) 
Why,  surely— that's  Kit. 

MURIEL.  Yes,  he's  getting  on  splendidly.  It's 
only  the  left  foot  that  gives  a  little  trouble. 

ANSTRUTHER.    He's  asleep. 

MURIEL.     Well,  yes — he  "  seems  "  to  be. 

ANSTRUTHER.     Shall  I  wake  him? 

MURIEL.    No,  you  can't  do  that. 

ANSTRUTHER.  No,  poor  soul.  I  suppose  he  wants 
all  the  rest  possible.  What  an  ideal  hospital  you've 
made. 

MURIEL.  Yes,  isn't  it  nice  ?  (pause)  Won't  you 
sit  down  ? 

(ANSTRUTHER    sits    below    fire.    MURIEL  above    R. 
Pause.    MURIEL  looks  shyly  over  to  BINGHAM.) 

Had  you  a  good  passage  home  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  Yes,  very ;  a  bit  rough  in  the 
bay. 

MURIEL,  (pause)  And  now  the  regiment  goes 
to  Colchester. 

ANSTRUTHER.     Yes — a  dull  place,  they  tell  me. 

MURIEL.     Yes ;    so  I  believe. 

ANSTRUTHER.    Hem !    Hem ! 

MURIEL.  You  must  have  been  through  some 
terrible  experience  during  the  year  that  is  gone  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  You  mean  the  war  ?  (rises,  stands 
by  fire) 

MURIEL.    Yes. 


ACT  IV.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  143 

ANSTRUTHER.       Ah,     yes,     indeed.      Mercifully, 
physical  fatigue  and  routine,  and  a  life  of  unceasing 
watchfulness  leave  little  time  for  thinking,     (crosses 
to  up  c.)  Yet  now — here — it  all  seems  like  a  story 
I  read  long  ago,  and  have  already  half  forgotten. 
MURIEL.     We  must  help  you  to  forget  it  altogether. 
ANSTRUTHER.     Yes,  you  can  do   a  great  deal  in 
that  way.     (comes  to  her) 
MURIEL.    Can  I  ? 

ANSTRUTHER.  (kneels  and  takes  her  hand)  Muriel, 
there's  no  good  beating  about  the  bush.  I  san't 
do  it.  With  every  turn  of  the  screw  that  sent  us 
home  over  six  thousand  miles  of  sea,  I've  been  dream- 
ing of  this — this  home-coming. 
MURIEL.  Miles  ! 

ANSTRUTHER.    I  meant  well,  Muriel,  but  I  was  a 
brute. 

MURIEL.    No,  no,  you  weren't.     Kit  has  toll  me 
all  that  happened. 

ANSTRUTHER.    And  everything's  forgiven  ? 
MURIEL,     (rises)     There    is    nothing    to    forgive. 
It  was  all  a  misunderstanding,     (he  kisses  her  hand) 
ANSTRUTHER.     (rises)    My  darling ! 
MURIEL.     Miles  !     I   knew   somehow  that  things 
would  come  right.     Miles,  look  at  the  sunlight  over 
the  sea. 
ANSTRUTHER.    Yes. 

MURIEL.    But  the  sunshine  here,  in  this  room 

ANSTRUTHER.    Is  far,  far  stronger. 
MURIEL.    Yes. 


144  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [ACT  IV. 

ANSTRTJTHER.     And  it's  all  thanks  to  Kit. 
MURIEL.    To  Kit  ?    How  ? 

(ANSTRUTHER  goes  and  looks  over  sofa.    MURIEL  goes 

to  fire.    ANSTRUTHER  returns  to  above  her.) 
ANSTRUTHER.    Hush ! 
MURIEL.     Tell  me. 

(BiNGHAM  bangs  the  edge  of  couch  with  annoyance.) 

ANSTRUTHER.  We  were  carrying  out  a  flank 
manoeuvre  at  Klipberg  under  heavy  fire  and  gallop  - 
hard  to  gain  a  kopje  on  the  enemy's  left.  Sud- 
denly my  horse  dropped  under  me  like  a  rabbit, 
catching  my  leg  under  his  ribs.  I  was  dead  stunned. 
After  a  time  I  heard  some  one  galloping  up  to  me — 
it  was  Kit.  He  had  turned  back  and  ridden  through 
a  hail  of  lead.  He  got  me  free,  threw  me  across  his 
own  saddle,  and  ofE  we  tore.  As  we  went,  one  shot 
struck  his  foot  and  two  others  caught  him  on  the  left 
arm. 

MURIEL.    Miles ! 

ANSTRUTHER.  Then,  as  we  dashed  over  the  veldt 
panting  and  jolting  for  dear  life,  I  heard  him  murmur, 
"  It's  for  her,  for  Muriel ;  I'm  bringing  him  back  to 
her." 

MURIEL.     He  never  told  me  a  word  of  this. 

ANSTRUTHER.  No ;  and  he  wanted  to  keep  it 
quiet.  I  was  too  ill  at  first  to  report  anything,  and 
so  it  got  into  neither  despatches  nor  newspaper.  It 
happened  close  on  dusk  and  only  two  or  three  men. 
saw  it.  But  there's  a  surprise  in  store  for  Kit* 


ACT  IV.]  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  145 

MURIEL.     Is  there  ?     Wait  a  minute. 

(Crosses  to  c.  ANSTRUTHER  turns  to  fire.  MURIEL 
shakes  her  finger  at  BINGHAM,  then  goes  to  above 
ANSTRUTHER,  R.) 

Then  speak  low ;  tell  me. 

ANSTRUTHER.  (below  R.)  When  I  was  fit  again 
I  reported  the  matter  privately  to  the  General,  and 
he  recommended  Kit  for  the  Victoria  Cross. 

( BINGHAM  swells  his  chest  with  pleasure  and  clutches 
side  of  couch.) 

MURIEL,  (above  R.)  Miles !  How  splendid !  I 
knew  he'd  do  something  great.  It  was  in  him  and 
bound  to  come  out.  Stone  walls  do  not  a  prison 
make,  nor  iron  bars  a  cage. 

BINGHAM.  Don't  they  ?  Just  you  ask  the  average 
burglar. 

ANSTRUTHER.    Hulloa !    He's  awake. 

(They  come  to  him  with  their  hands  entwined.  MURIEL 
goes  at  back  of  sofa  to  down  L.  ANSTRUTHER  goes  to 
head  of  sofa.) 

BINGHAM.    No,  I'm  not,  I'm  only  delirious. 

ANSTRUTHER.  Here !  Wake  up !  Don't  talk 
rot! 

BINGHAM.  Hallo,  old  chap  !  (sits  up)  How  are 
you  ? 

(They  shake  hands.) 

ANSTRUTHER.  (helps  BINGHAM  up)  Kit,  you 
rogue.  You've  been  awake  all  the  time. 


146  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [AciIV. 

BINGHAM.  (holding  ANSTRUTHER'S  hand)  No, 
I've  been  dreaming.  I  dreamt  that  I  was  at  a  wed- 
ding, and  you  were  the  bridegroom.  For  a  time  I 
insisted  that  I  was  that  official,  but  we  found  out 
eventually  that  I  was  only  the  best  man. 

ANSTRUTHER.     Kit !     (shakes  hands) 

(Enter  LADY  HARBURGH,  HILDEBRAND  and  NORAH.) 
LADY  HARBURGH.  Colonel  Anstruther.  How 
delightful.  But  there  isn't  a  moment  to  spare,  even 
to  welcome  you.  The  Duke  of  Hull  is  coming  to  see 
the  patients.  He's  in  the  garden  now.  There,  sit 
there,  Hildebrand.  Norah,  tidy  his  hair. 

BINGHAM.  (hands  cushion  to  MURIEL,  who  places 
it  under  his  arm  L.)  Can't  I  go  away  ?  I'm  such  a 
fool  at  a  function. 

MURIEL.    No,  of  course  you  can't. 
(Enter  IST  A.D.C.) 

A.D.C.  His  Royal  Highness !  (spoken  quietly) 
(Enter  DUKE  OF  HULL  and  2ND  A.D.C.) 

DUKE.  My  dear  Lady  Harburgh,  and  these,  I 
suppose,  are  your  ministering  angels. 

LADY  HARBURGH.  It  is  very  good  of  your  Royal 
Highness  to  come,  (steps  up  R.  c.) 

DUKE.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  a  very  great  plea- 
sure. What  a  charming  hospital.  Is  this  your  son  ? 

LADY  HARBURGH.     Yes,  sir. 

DUKE.     You're  getting  on  well,  I  hear. 

HILDEBRAND.     Yes,  thank  you,  sir. 

DUKE.     It  is  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  tell  you 


ACT  IV.]  SECOND   IN  COMMAND.  147 

that  the  King  signed  your  commission  this  morning. 

HILDEBRAND.     Oh,  sir ! 

DUKE.  And  I  trust  you  will  long  be  spared  to 
serve  your  country  as  gallantly  as  you  have  done. 

(HILDEBRAND  goes  up  to  window  talking  with  NORAH. 
DUKE  comes  to  BINGHAM.  BINGHAM  rises  with  the 
assistance  of  MURIEL  and  ANSTRUTHER.) 

DUKE.  And  this  is  Major  Bingham.  No,  please 
don't  move.  I  won't  have  you  attempt  to  stand. 

BINGHAM.     Bat,  sir 

DUKE.  It  is  my  wish.  The  King  has  sent  by 
me  a  little  gift.  It's  perhaps  unusual  to  give  it  so 
informally,  especially  as  you  can't  even  wear  uniform 
at  present,  but  His  Majesty  thought  that  possibly 
b3stowing  it  now  might  have  as  an  invigorating  an 
effect  as  a  great  quantity  of  medicine.  So  I'm  going 
to  pin  it  on  your  left  breast.  No,  I've  already 
told  you  not  to  move.  There  !  (pins  medal  on 
BINGHAM.)  The  Victoria  Cross,  and  the  King 
desires  me  to  express  his  fervent  hope  that  you  may 
long  be  spared  to  wear  it. 

BINGHAM.    I — I  can't  speak,  sir. 

DUKE.  I  quite  understand.  Good-bye 

(takes  BINGHAM'S  hand)  I  shall  hope  to  hear  of 
your  speedy  recovery. 

BINGHAM.     Good-bye,  sir.     (shakes  hands) 

DUKE,  (goes  up  R.  c.  to  LADY  HARBURGH)  Good- 
bye, Lady  Harburgh.  (goes  toL.  c.,  bows  to  MURIEL, 


148  SECOND   IN   COMMAND.  [Acr  IV. 

takes  cap  and  stick  from  A.D.C.,  goes  to  L.)     This,  I 
think,  is  the  way. 

ANSTRUTHER.     (opening  door)  Allow  me,  sir. 

DUKE.     Good-bye,    Colonel,     (shakes    hands) 

(Exeunt  DUKE  and  A.D.C.'s,  followed  by  LADY  HAR- 

BURGH,  NORAH  and  HlLDEBRAND.)   . 

(ANSTRUTHER  and  MURIEL  stand  at  back  and  watch 

BlNGHAM.) 

BINGHAM.     The  Victoria  Cross  !     I   wish — I  wish 
I  wish  I  were  worth  it. 

(ANSTRUTHER  comes  down  to  back  of  couch  L.  c. 
MURIEL  comes  down  L.  to  front,  kneels  and  grasps 
BINGHAM'S  hand.  ANSTRUTHER  grasps  his  other 
hand.) 


CURTAIN. 


- 


